


Out Of Place

by NimTheWitch



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Abduction, Elf/Human Pairing, F/M, Real world, Sex, Torture, travel fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 03:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13673058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimTheWitch/pseuds/NimTheWitch
Summary: We've all seen the "one of us goes there" stories, this is my take on that tale with a few twists. Come on a journey of confusion, trials, intrigue and adventure as we fell a little out of place.





	1. Sudden Danger and Strange Welcomes

The leaves rustled above her head, rousing her from the drowsy haze she'd allowed herself to fall into. The sun dappled her skin and the lace of her dress, warming her with its touch. She stretched, a lazy smile playing on her face as her book slouched off her moving belly and onto the forest floor upon which she'd lain. It was this motion that broke the spell of lazy happiness she'd been under and alerted her to the truth of her situation.

The woods she was in were not the ones she had entered that morning. The warm sunlight was rapidly vanishing, leaving her body chilled and exposed in the summery dress she wore. Leaves and brambles, both already well into their fall drying cycle, crawled forward to snag at the exposed skin of her legs and feet, where they weren't covered by her flimsy sandals. But all of this paled in comparison to what hovered over her head. Above her was an almost continuous roof of what looked like sticky white web.

She felt a scream begin to bubble up in her throat, but clamped her mouth closed before it could force itself from her body. Instead, she knelt down, picked her book up from the leafy bed it had landed in, thanking every god and goddess she could name that the leaves had not rustled when the book was moved. Then came the hard part. She knew that spiders worked mostly through touch, and that most normal species had little to no sense of actual hearing, but she wasn't willing to risk it with a species big enough to build webs of that size. So now she had to try and get out from under the web without making any sound of alerting the eight legged hunters that she was sure were lurking above the white canopy somewhere.

The first few steps were entirely too nerve wracking. It seemed to her that no matter how softly she stepped or how skillfully she tried to avoid the leaved, she sent up a cacophony of crunches and snaps with every step. She kept expecting to see massive many legged shadows above her at any moment, but the moment never came, all there was, was more bramble, the growing cold and her ever present dread.

She had just begun to relax when she heard the snap from above and the ground below her jerked upward, shoving her knees into her torso and knocking the air from her lungs. It was the only reason her ascent wasn't accompanied by a scream. White web stuck to hair and skin alike as the hidden net closed around its prey, trapping her in a world of horrible alabaster that she knew would be the last thing she ever saw. She felt a sting in her side, like a needle prick, only instead of the spreading muscle pain she had come to expect from modern medicine, she felt instead only a strange numbing cold. It spread from her side, across her chest, stilling her shivers and her rapid breathing, as it crept, making her limbs heavy as lead. As the icy cold numbness made its way down her arms and legs, finally, all she knew was stillness and she thought, as her consciousness left her, that she wished she were home and safe and that she should've just stayed in and written that morning.

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Feeling was the first thing to return to her. Warmth spread out from her torso, radiating life and energy to limbs that still felt near lifeless.  
"Ah, awake at least it would seem." A deep voice sounded off to her side, right and deep. Her first instinct was to feign sleep and hope whoever was there would assume they were mistaken and leave. "Come now, don't be coy, I can assure you, you are quite safe." The voice sounded almost amused, but in the way an adult is amused by a child. It made her hackles begin to rise as she tried to force her eyes open. "Still too weak I see. I will have the healers come and see to you. Rest now, recover your strength. I will return when you are feeling a little better." This was followed by the sound of fabric gliding over stone, and then the presence was gone, leaving her alone with her warm surroundings and her unbearably weary body. She was unconscious again within seconds.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, her body sending sporadic messages to her brain as nerves came back from the frozen numbness that had put her...wherever she was. She heard snippets of conversations, though the language was like nothing she'd ever heard before. It was a liltingly beautiful tongue that didn't seem to be spoken so much as simply flowing from the mouth of the speaker. Another strange thing was that all the voices she heard were female. She tried to consider why this would be, but her mind was determined to sleep, so sleep she did.

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The next time she came back to the world, she was almost assaulted by scents. There was an overwhelmingly earthy smell all around her, like she was sleeping in a cave or a rabbit hole, but this was tempered by fall scented air, carrying a faint chill that was more sensed than felt. There were also more domestic scents, like wood smoke from the fireplace, freshly cut flowers, the soft smell of linen and a strangely male scent that seemed very close to her.

"Good morning, are you feeling better?" The voice sounded familiar, her mind treated her to a barrage of images as the smooth voice seemed to almost flow around her. She tried to respond, but all that came from her was a hoarse, almost cracked sounding squeak of air. It hurt like fire in her throat, spreading from her vocal chords in a creeping stinging crawl that slowly spread until it felt as if she would either breathe fire or simply crumble away at the neck.

"Easy now, here, drink this, it will ease the pain." She felt what she could only assume to be the rim of a cup press gently into her lips, coaxing them open as a hand, warm and impossibly smooth, encircled the back of her neck, helping her to sit forward slightly. She was expecting ice water to spill into her mouth as the cup tipped forward, but instead, the liquid inside seemed to warm her, soothing the parched skin in her throat as she began to swallow it down almost greedily. She heard a soft laugh as the cup was taken away, now all but empty, and was replaced by another smooth hand, gliding gently over her lips where small beads of excess moisture still clung.

"Now, try and open your eyes." She felt the hand at the back of her neck, coming to rest against her cheek, urging her silently to wake fully and see the world again. But her eyes felt so heavy, all she wanted to do was go back down into the warm darkness from which she'd woken. The hands seemed to be getting impatient The pressure in the gentle finger presses was becoming more noticeable. Also, they had begun to move, traveling in slow, probing paths down her neck and shoulders, applying gentle pressure as they moved. It would have been soothing, if she could just see the face of the man whose hands felt like the finest porcelain come to life.

"Come now, open your eyes, your wounds are healed, your body is rested, now all that is left is to simply awaken." The hands left her body as the voice moved further away, leaving her with an oddly empty feeling. She groaned, the sound barely making it passed her lips before it fell into the silence of the room. She knew he was right, she felt better than she had in months, relaxed in places she hadn't even known she'd been tense, rested, she wasn't even particularly hungry. She just had to force her eyes to open so that she might actually believe what she was feeling.

She tried to move, lifting her limbs felt like lifting boulders, but she managed to move both hands to her face, her fingers rubbing gently over her eyes until the heaviness began to leave them. Finally, she was able to life her eyelids, her hands falling to the pillow as she began to take in in the room around her. The walls were carved to look like wood and roots, but shined like stone. Large windows, set high in the wall, allowed yellowed sunlight to filter into the room. She was surrounded by fabrics in every color of blue imaginable, though they all seemed to be faded with age, and all along on wall stood a massive hearth, a fire blazing in its grate and a man standing before it.

He would have been an imposing figure, back lit by the fire as he was, but the way he was dressed was a little too ridiculous. It looked like something you would buy from a Renaissance fair, all flowing brocade in golds and reds, it even had a train that rested around him in a dramatic fall of fabric. She could only imagine a tunic, leggings and boots beneath it. When that image, coupled with his hair and the face she'd envisioned as he spoke, she was treated to the image of a pouty king like figure that almost had her laughing out loud. But she was still curious. She had expected some kind of hospital room, complete with beeping equipment and backless gowns that made her feel ridiculously exposed. But this place seemed more fit in a fantasy than any kind of place a doctor would be.

The thought of hospital attire brought her mind around to her own form and the lack of clothing she seemed to be suffering from. The sheets of the bed rubbed gently against her skin, feeling as soft as silk, but without the slipper texture that had always driven her away from that particular fabric. It was the rubbing that alerted her to the fact that her clothed, every stitch, were gone.

"Please, do not panic. You are safe and none but the healers have seen your body unclothed. The garment you wore was...damaged in places and has been taken for a mending and cleaning." He began to turn, a hint of a smirk on his face as she clutched the covers to her chest. She couldn't help but blush as his impossibly blue eyed came to rest on her, his gaze making her feel as if there were no covers at all. He was breathtakingly beautiful. His face seemed to be sculpted from stone, high cheekbones lead to a set of full lips that seemed made for kissing and of course, the eyes that were trying to devour her whole.

She shook herself from her thoughts, shocked that something like that would even cross her mind. She never been overly interested in having a relationship with anyone. The few "encounters" she'd experienced had been disappointing at best and thoughts like that were something she'd never had any patience with. But now, they wouldn't stop. She tried to push her mind onto another track, to focus on anything other than the man standing before the fires, smiling as if he could read her mind.

"Can you speak?" he asked, moving away from the fire, towards the edge of the bed.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I'm being so rude." She tried to laugh as she dropped her head, breaking the almost electric connection she had been feelings.

"No apology necessary. You are disoriented, understandably so, you've been through quite a shock. You are lucky my guards found you, the spiders are not merciful." He smiled again, though not it seemed to hold something sinister. "But then, you already know that I suppose. There is much you know, I would imagine." He held up a dirt stained book, it took her a moment to realize what it was.

"What happened to it? That was a first edition." She squeaked, reaching for the book, only to have it pulled away.

"First edition? Are there others?" He seemed to grow just a little more threatening as his body began to loom over her.

"Yeah. It's been around for almost 100 years so there have been a lot of reprints. Why do you care? How do you not know this already?" She asked, hold the sheet to her chest as she moved into a sitting position.

The man standing before her looked almost sad as a thought occurred to him. "You have no idea where you are, do you?" He asked, his voice growing quiet.

"Well no, I don't really, I assumed I was at some kind of weird hospital but I guess that idea was pretty silly given the surroundings and the complete lack of electronics. Is this some kind of LARP camp or something?" She asked, her head almost literally spinning as she tried to take in all the various details of the room.

"I do not know of this LARP you speak of. Perhaps an introduction is in order." He turned, setting the book on a nearby table before turning back toward her, gesturing for her to speak.

"Uh, okay. Hi, I'm Del, it's not short for anything, my parents just weren't very imaginative." She tried to put on a smile, but the situation was just too strange.

"Greetings Del, my name is Thranduil, King of the halls in which you now reside." He dropped his head and shoulders in a sort of bow. Whatever reaction he'd been expecting, it was nowhere near the almost hysterical laughter now echoing around the room. It didn't last long, Del realized how rude she must seem and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I'm sorry. But you can't be serious. Is this come kind of joke? A Halloween thing?" The smile on her face was so innocent that it almost broke the Elf King's heart to subtly shake his head.

"I do not know this Halloween of which you speak, but I can assure you, this is no joke." He allowed the sympathy he felt to creep into his voice, his face softening to an almost paternal expression.

"This is impossible, elves aren't real. Middle Earth is a fictional representation of Britain. You've been watching too many movies man." She tried to smile again, but the look of complete conviction on his face dropped a small chill down her spine.

"I can see that physical evidence will be required." He sighed, seating himself gracefully onto the edge of the bed, his hand moving up toward his face. Long fingers swept silken hair behind an ear that tapered into an elegant point. It looked so real, but Del knew that prosthetics had come quite a long way from the rubber her mother had grown up with. Her hand moved without order from her brain. It reached up, taking the tip gently between her thin fingers, feeling the heat under the skin. She was so engrossed in her examination that she missed the look of extreme pleasure that crossed the Elf King's face. It took a moment for the truth to really settle in, but as it dawned on her, she snatched her hand to to her chest.

"Those are real! How are those real? How is any of this real?" She felt her body moving backward over the smooth sheets as her mind struggled to come to grips with the impossible situation she now found herself in.

"Calm yourself. I understand this must be quite frightening for you but I need to know what occurred to bring you here." His hand closed over her arm, stopping her panicked fleeing before she managed to push herself off the other end of the bed.

"I don't know! I was in the woods behind my house. It was sunny and warm, on of the first real summer days of the year, so I decided to go to my favorite clearing to read. I must've fallen asleep because the next this I know, I'm waking up in the nightmare forest and almost getting eaten by gigantic spiders." She tried to keep the panic from her voice, tried to sound calm and rational, but she could tell just how convincing she wasn't from the look on his face.

"You go into a your forest, fall asleep while reading of my world, and wake to find yourself in my forest instead. Was there nothing else you saw or perhaps heard? Something strange about the day, perhaps the weather?" He seemed almost as desperate as she was to make sense of the situation. An understandable desire given that a random girl from another world had just dropped into his realm.

"No, there was nothing. I mean, there were more animals than usual in the forest, but that was probably just due to the nice weather." She shrugged, her eyes losing focus as she tried to remember anything else that may have happened.

"What type of animals?" Thranduil's voice became almost dangerously sharp, cutting through her wandering thoughts and pulling her back to the moment. 

"Oh, uh, rabbits mostly, but there were also an awful lot of bluebirds and other little birds. And they didn't seem afraid of me. I figured it was just because of their size, they were much bigger than any other rabbits I'd seen in the forest." She fell silent as she saw his face darken.

"I will return shortly, someone will be along in a moment with some...more appropriate garments." He stood and marched toward the door, turning his head to speak over his shoulder. "I will expect you out of bed when I return, we still have much to discuss." With that parting order, he disappeared through the doorway and Del was left alone.

She didn't have long to ponder her situation before the door was opened once again. She gripped the sheets around her tightly as a dark haired woman came in, smiling kindly as she deposited a cascade of fabric over a small chair that rested before a vanity that was situated in a tiny corner by the window. She turned, pulling the covers out of Del's hands and clean off the bed, leaving her exposed except for where her arms covered or her legs crossed.

"Off the bed please. I have to get you dressed and ready before the King returns." The voice was beautiful, fitting for such a beautiful woman...no, not woman, elleth Del reminded herself. She was among elves now.

She took a deep breath, scooting off the bed as gracefully as she was able. She flinched as her feet touched stone that was so cold it seemed to bite. Her arms remained crossed around her torso, covering "the goodies" as her mother had always called them.

"You needn't cover yourself. Your body is actually quite beautiful." The elleth smiled.

"Sorry, my people value their personal privacy." She tried to sound unaffected by it, but the shaking in her voice betrayed how uncomfortable she truly was.

"I see. Our races are not dissimilar in that respect, but it does not extend to one's own chambers. Please remove your arms from your chest. I must get you dressed before the King returns." The elleth sighed, moving to physically pose her nervous charge. Del closed her eyes, dropping her arms to her sides. She expected some kind of reaction, a gasp or at least a startled "oh" when her chest was revealed, but all she got was a small giggle and the sound of fast moving feet. For some reason, this made her feel more comfortable. After all, they were both female and the only thing she had to hide had already been seen, so there was really no reason to be nervous anymore.

"Arms above your head please." The elleth's voice sounded amused. Del put her arms over her head and felt a cottony like fabric slide down her arms and over her face, whispering down her body to cover the majority of her tattoos, including the one between her breasts that had always made her self conscious when naked. She still didn't know why it made her nervous, it wasn't a vulgar design or anything, merely a swirling mandala that was meant to symbolize balance, but for some reason, she always got nervous whenever anyone saw it.

As the fabric of the under dress settled into place, she opened her eyes, watching as the elleth scrutinized the fit. She tried to ignore the look of faint consternation on the beautiful face, but it was hard to miss and only served to make her feel self conscious once again. Did she not look right in it? Was it too small? It didn't feel small, though it was a bit odd fitting around the chest, but surely in a world where bras hadn't been invented yet, slightly odd fitting garments had to be something that was just expected...right?

"Is something wrong?" Del asked, feeling her nerves begin to rise.

"Yes, but it is something I can fix." The elleth disappeared around a corner, returning a moment later with several lengths of more cottony fabric. Before Del could even ask what she intended to do with them, the elleth began weaving them into a long, tube like braid. "Arms up again please." Del obeyed, somewhat nervous about where the fabric was going to go.

If the elleth was aware of her misgivings, she didn't give any indication of it as she stepped forward, sliding the braided band down Del's raised arms, working it downward until it rested just above her breasts. It was an odd sensation, and she couldn't imagine it looking very good, but decided to keep it to herself. Which turned out to be a good idea because the elleth wasn't finished. Without preamble, she gripped the bottom of the fabric and pulled it sharply downward, making the skin smart and putting an almost uncomfortable amount of pressure on her chest.

"Ah, perfect size. I had to estimate as there are few here who are so...well endowed. How does it feel? I can loosen the braid if it pinches or you feel like you can't breathe." She smiled, clearly unaware of how Del was feeling. The stunned woman cleared her throat.

"Um no, it's fine, thanks." She tried to ignore the cramps in her stomach that always accompanied being this uncomfortable, repeating a litany of calming phrases in her mind as the elleth busied herself with the multi-layered dress. First came yet another under dress, this one with sleeves that flared slowly out into a bell. It was a shade or two darker than the first garment, taking on a decidedly blue hue as it settled over the fabric beneath it. Next came the actual outer garment, and it was unquestionably beautiful. Del had never seen anything like it before. It's color seemed to shift between shades, one moment it was almost a jean color, then it would be almost navy.

"That is beautiful. What is it made of?" She couldn't help but ask.

"It is silk, the dying process leaves deposits between the strands as they are woven together which gives it the appearance of changing color. It will suit you nicely." The elleth smiled, walking up to her and slipping the shimmering fabric over her head. It settled more heavily than she expected around her shoulders, hanging loosely on her curves. She looked to the elleth, who was busying herself over in the corner the dress had been in and gave a small gasp as she turned, an embroidered belt in her hands. She wanted to comment on it, say something that would adequately express how beautiful the belt was, but nothing seemed to do it justice so she kept silent as the belt was fixed around her waist, giving the dress just enough shape to fit her. "There now, very fitting indeed. Now please have a seat at the mirror."

Del nodded, having a seat infront of the vanity in the corner and pushed her long locks behind her, letting them dangle over the edge of the chair. She expected some kind of deriding for the condition, she had never been very good at keeping her hair trimmed and healthy, but all she received was a nod of thanks and the feeling of a brush slowly working through the tangles she'd managed to get while sleeping. It was such a soothing feeling that she found herself relaxing into thoughtlessness, her eyes drifting closed as the elleth began to braid the hair at her temples, keeping it loose.

"There, all done." The elleth sounded pleased, which was encouraging and Del opened her eyes, looking at the simple yet elegant hair style. It was just a few simple braids, taken back from the sides of her head and pulled together in the back, but the effect it had was startling. She looked much more dignified than she had before, more like a lady, it was an odd feeling, but she couldn't say she disliked it.

"It looks beautiful, thank you." She smiled up at the elleth through the mirror. She returned the gesture and gave a small curtsey before turning and sweeping out of the room. Del sighed, feeling suddenly out of place without the elf in the room to remind her that this was how it was supposed to be. She looked down at the dress, watching the fabric as it pooled around her legs, shifting slightly with every movement of her legs, and suddenly she felt so silly. She was playing pretend, dressing up in clothes that would never suit her and she was about to talk to a King. None of this made any sense. She sighed, leaning forward, her head coming to rest in her hands just as the door opened.

"Ah, very good, now we may talk."


	2. Dangerous Conversations

"Hello again." She smiled, or tried to smile, her face still wasn't quite ready to cooperate with her yet.

"Are you feeling better?" He returned the smile, walking calmly to the high backed chair her dress had been draped over and seating himself as if he were on a throne. The whole image was a little much to take in and Del found her brain once again rebelling at the idea of what she was seeing.

"Uh yeah, I mean, I'm still taking all of this in, but physically I feel fine." She sat back into the chair she didn't remember leaving, realizing too late that she probably should've bowed or something first.

"I would prefer to give you time to adjust, a shock like this can be quite traumatic. However, I am afraid we do not have that luxury." The door opened as his voice faded, revealing a older man in brown robes. His face would have been rather handsome, despite the age, if it wasn't scrunched up into a grimace.

"Honestly Thranduil, there is no need to treat me as if I am some common prisoner." He directed this remark both at the king seated before him and the two guards who still maintained a firm grip on his arms.

"Release him. Please, join us. Del, may I introduce Radagast the Brown, Radagast, this is Del, though I suppose you already know that." The king directed his steely gaze to the wizard, now standing halfway between the two of them.

"The Radagast? Friend to all creatures? Oh wow!" She realized how odd she sounded just after the words left her mouth and she lapsed into embarrassed silence, keeping her face averted from both men.

"How do you know of him? He was not mentioned in your book save as the cousin of Gandalf the Grey." Thranduil's piercing eyes rounded on her now, making her feel as if she was naked all over again.

"Well not in that one, no." She tried to keep her voice as quiet as possible, knowing that once she opened that can of worms, there was no going back.

"That One? There are others?" Thranduil stood from his seat, moving closer to her, towering over her.

"Well yeah, I mean, there's no direct continuation of The Hobbit, but there's another series set about sixty years from now. Radagast gets a few small parts in it." She tried to be as vague as possible, knowing that she couldn't not answer, but also knowing that she couldn't just tell them about Frodo and the ring either.

"There is more to this than you are telling me, isn't there?" His voice had gotten dangerously quiet, sending shivers down her spine.

She swallowed, squeaking out a tiny "yes", her head hanging firmly against her chest.

"That is enough Thranduil. Leave the poor girl alone. You do not need the knowledge she has, be satisfied with what you have already learned." Radagast moved forward, intent on putting himself between the king and his quarry if necessary.

"This is your doing wizard. I know it." Thranduil straightened, once again directing his focus onto the brown robed figure.

"If it were, it would be for a reason. Do you intend to make me tell you?" Radagast's voice took on an edge of its own, the air in the room taking on an oppressive quality that made Del feel small, but as soon as it had come, it was gone again, retreating back into the space the wizard occupied.

"So that's what that feels like." She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud until she felt two pairs of eyes on her.

"You would be wise to reveal nothing else of what you know while you are here. In truth, I am not the one who has brought you here, though it was one of my order. There is only one with this power, Saruman the White. I do not know his game yet, but I am not alone in my interest. We will discover his purpose yet. In the mean time, you must remain where no one can learn what you know. I would ask that you remain here. Under the protection of the elves you will not be easily manipulated or harmed." He bowed his head, turning to leave.

"If she is to remain here, I would have her share her knowledge with me. I cannot protect what I do not fully know." Thranduil's voice had taken on an almost petulant tone, though it did nothing to rob him of his regal attitude.

"I cannot stop you, you know this. But I would caution that you take heed of my warning and leave this matter be. You will not like what you come to know and may do more harm than good once you have the knowledge you so crave." With those parting words, Radagast was gone, the door closing resolutely behind him.

"What?! What did that even mean?" Del felt panic start to rise in her chest again. Up to this point she could've dismissed this all as some kind of crazy dream. She could've just said she was in a coma and been at peace with her crazy fantasy. But not even her mind could've come up with something this crazy.

"Please remain calm. You are in no danger here." Thranduil reached out for her shoulder, intent on calming her if possible. She jumped like a scared rabbit, tilting sideways to avoid him, her feet snagging on her skirt, sending her into the floor where she continued to crawl sideways away from him.

"NO! Don't touch me. This isn't real! This can't be real!" She ended up in a corner, her body curled in on itself as far as possible, her whole body shaking as tears fell unheeded from her eyes. A shadow fell over her body, causing her to look up into a pair of impossibly blue eyes. She felt for a moment as if she was floating, her mind went blank in the face of those eyes.

"Calm yourself. As I have already said, this is quite real. I understand your reluctance to believe, but you must. Please, Del, do not fight what you know to be true. You will only harm yourself." She felt a hand rest on her cheek, sweeping the tears gently from her face. No words would come to her mind in response, all she could do was nod and shake as she continued to cry.

A few minutes passed with no change. He remained with her, soothing her when her hysteria tried to return, drying her eyes gently until she regained enough of her strength to stand. She moved slowly back to her chair, drawing shaky breaths, trying to keep her mind from falling apart again.

"Now, if you are able, please tell me what you know of this world." He resumed his own seat, his face as passive as it had been before. She swallowed a few times, trying to rehydrate her throat before nodding and taking a deep breath. They were gonna be here a while.

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"Gandalf. We must speak." Radagast all but vaulted from his horse as it came even with his grey clad cousin.

"Radagast, what are you doing here? You are far from the forest." Gandalf's eyes wrinkled up into a smile which quickly fell when he met his fellow wizard's eyes. "What is wrong?"

"There is an outsider in the forest. She appeared within the spiders' nests with no warning. I suspect Saruman to be behind it, though I do not know his mind of yet. Be wary my friend, not all on the council may still be true." He reached out, putting a hand on his cousin's shoulder.

"Surely you jest. Saruman is no more a traitor than I am. What proof do you have of this claim?" His eyes twinkled, thinking perhaps he was the butt of a strange joke.

"This outsider, this woman, she is not of our world. I do not mean that she is from another land, outside the borders of Middle Earth, I mean that she is not of this realm. She is not of Eru." His voice turned dark as he spoke, the meaning clear to any who were learned of their world.

"That is not possible. All human life is of Eru, as is all Elven life, you know this as well as I do. Stop this now Radagast, it isn't funny." Gandalf turned to leave, intent on stopping the conversation then and there.

"If you do not believe me, go for yourself and see. She is wrong Gandalf, she does not belong here and only one of us has the power to accomplish a feat such as what I believe to have brought her here." Radagast turned as well, mounting his horse with a little more force than he intended. The horse registered its displeasure and got an apple and an apology in return, Radagast was nothing if not kind to his animal brethren. Gandalf sighed, turning his horse to face his cousin.

"Very well, I will look into this matter myself. Where is this strange girl?" His tone was tinged with disbelief, something that rankled Radagast just a little, but he couldn't bear him too much of a grudge, it was hard for even him to believe, and he'd seen it.

"She is in the hall of Thranduil. I have left her there for safe keeping until we can rectify the situation. I fear the damage she will do there with what she knows, but there was no safer choice." He watched the emotions play over Gandalf's face before he nodded. It was all the farewell either needed as they set off in opposite directions, both wishing the other a silent "good luck" as they passed.

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Del had expected a great many things to happen after she finished relating "all she knew", but absolute anger was not one of them. She sat perfectly still as Thranduil paced, talking under his breath in his native language as all manner of negative emotions played across his face. She was afraid to even breathe too deeply lest he turn on her, but she couldn't stand the silence either. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to speak.

"Um, are you okay?" She regretted it instantly. He rounded on her, his eyes boring into her own like daggers of pure emotion.

"How do you know this? No human was alive in the beginning. Only the elves existed in the morning of the world." His voice was eerily calm, but she could tell it was anything but safe.

"It was in another book called the Silmarillion. It was sort of the a backstory to the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings." She tried to force the words out as fast as she could while still remaining coherent. She honestly didn't understand why he was so angry, it didn't make any sense for the character she knew to react this way. He was far too calculating to be reacting so viscerally. It made her uneasy and brought Radagast's words back to her, perhaps she shouldn't have said anything.

"You speak as if you were present. You know things no human can know. What are you keeping from me? How is this knowledge gained?" He moved forward quickly, his hands coming to rest hard against the arms of her chair, effectively pinning her in place.

Del tried to stutter out any answer other than the truth, fearing it would send him over the edge of whatever break down he was going through. His eyes hardened in response, pulling the truth from her whether she wanted to say it or not. She'd always read about the gaze of the elves, how Galadriel was able to dig right down to your soul with nothing more than her eyes, but she'd never imagined it being this unpleasant.

"Because none of this is real when I come from. It's all fiction written by a man named J.R.R. Tolkien." She breathed deep, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

"So that is what you meant when you said none of this could possibly exist." He seemed to deflate almost immediately, seating himself heavily in the chair he had exited so quickly in his rage. "It was not simply shock, it was truth." He sagged back into his chair, a hand coming to rest against his face.

Del felt like she should say something, try to reassure him that just because he wasn't real in her world didn't mean anything in his, but she couldn't summon up the proper words. There was a scientific theory that postulated many different realities existing beside each other, so technically he was just as real as she was, but in all of those theories, her world was the base zero, the world that all other worlds came from, which meant, that in a way, he wasn't real. But luckily for her she didn't have much time to sit and dwell on the situation as, just when she got up the courage to say something, the door was thrown open by a familiar grey robed figure.


	3. Dangers, Changes, And A Plan

"Oh, forgive me, I appear to have interrupted something." Gandalf said, pushing forward into the room. "Thranduil, you look weary, are you well? Perhaps you should retire to your chambers for a time, regain your composure. I will watch over your guest." His tone was gentle, yet left no room for argument. Del saw Thranduil's back stiffen, but he rose and exited the room without argument. "Now then, perhaps you can tell me what has him in such a knot." He smiled softly at her as he moved toward the chair Thranduil had just vacated.

"I don't think I should. Radagast told me I should keep it to myself and I didn't and then he lost his damn mind. I don't fancy my chances if you get all pissed at me too." She crossed her arms over her chest, intent on not saying a word about what she knew.

"Child, Radagast is the one who sent me. I have come to find out for myself if you are who he says you are. I can see evidence of what he has told me without a word from you, but explanation would help me to make sense of what I am seeing." He smiled again, his face remaining calm and passive, though it was little comfort to her, as she knew what lurked beneath that pleasant smile.

"And who does he say I am? I've been told exactly nothing since I got here. First I wake up in a spider infested forest, run for my life in sandals, get caught and almost eaten and then basically held prisoner in this room. No one has told me anything about why I'm here, how I got here or even how "here" exists so you'll forgive me if I'm not feeling overly chatty right now." She huffed, feeling like herself for the first time since she'd woken up.

"I see. You want an explanation of your own before you will give me one. Well that does seem fair I suppose. Very well. As to who you are, I don't know. All I do know is that you are not from here, and that is exceptionally odd. Every being that is of Eru carries a mark that only certain beings can see, it is like an aura that shines out around them. You do not have this aura, thus I can say you are not of Eru, hence you are not from this realm. How you got here, that is something I think I can answer a little of. Saruman the White has contrived some mischief to bring you here. Is that sufficient explanation for now?" He took out a long pipe from his belt pouch and began to pile tobacco inside, perfectly calm still despite the knowledge that she wasn't from Middle Earth.

"I guess so, though I still wanna know how any of this is even friggin' real." She sighed, launching into her whole explanation again, going as far back in the history of the Silmarillion as she could remember, watching his face carefully for any sign of anger. He remained calm through the whole tale, nodding at certain parts, smiling at others, frowning at the bits where evil won out for a time. It was like he was remembering all of it, though that wasn't possible as he didn't come into being until after most of it was over and done with.

"I see, so there are accounts of our history in your world. And they are fiction you say? That is fascinating. You will have to tell me more about this Earth you come from, it sounds like a very interesting place." He tapped the remainder of his pipe ash out over the fireplace and sighed. "Yes, it would seem that Radagast spoke the truth. Saruman must be behind this, and I fear his goal is not good. Radagast told you to remain in these halls, and that was wise council, but allow me to give some of my own. Stay close to King Thranduil. I have a feeling that we will all soon be caught up in this and you will fair best with him." And with those words, he too disappeared out the door, leaving her once again alone.

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Gandalf walked silently down the hall toward Thranduil's private chambers. This was a conversation he did not want to have, but if his suspicions were anywhere near correct, they would all be in a great deal of trouble soon. He stopped, unable to mistake the ornate doors at the end of the hall. They were a darker oak, a great knot work of iron wrought into them to make the image of two trees, it was a familiar theme to most elves, the depiction of Laurelin and Telperion, the two trees of Valinor that gave light to the world before Ungoliant the ever hungry devoured that light during the morning of the world. He sighed as he gripped the handle of the door, readying himself for the confrontation he was sure was awaiting him on the other side.

As he pushed through the door, he felt a strange air pass over him, it was oppressive with the scents of the forest. It was an ominous change as they were too far into the caverns for the scent to have made its way there naturally. The doors opened onto an empty antechamber, the fireplace, normally kept going nearly year round was dark and quiet, this only served to further the sense of danger that had set on Gandalf the moment he reached Mirkwood. The door to the bedroom was partially open, golden light creeping out onto the floor of the dim antechamber, throwing shadows along the walls.

"Thranduil, you will speak with me." His voice had taken on more of an edge than he intended, but he was beginning to form ideas that filled him with dread. He heard a soft, derisive laugh from the other side of the door as Thranduil pushed it open, his fingers suddenly bejeweled with rings, his robe changed from the soft green and gold he normally wore to a rather flashy, intricately woven golden brocade thing that was far more extravagant than anything Gandalf had ever seen the elf wear before. But the most worrying was the staff he carried. None but the wizards carried staves, it was something that had been understood since they were first created.

"You cannot command me wizard. Remove yourself from my chambers, we have nothing further to discuss. That mortal knows far too much to remain here, I will deal with her, you needn't worry." He smiled, a cold and calculating expression that was foreign to the face the wizard had come to know. But then, this was not the elf Gandalf knew.

"You will do no such thing. She does not wish to be here anymore than you wish her to remain. But for the time being, she must stay hidden here. You are not as you were Thranduil, I fear that by the end of this, none of us will be. But I must know, what has become of Thorin and Company?" He watched as the smile faded to a look of intense displeasure. If he didn't know better, he would say it was hate, a truly worrying thing to see on an elf's face.

"They escaped my dungeons not a day before I found that girl in my forest. Legolas and Tauriel have gone off after them, against my wishes. They were being hunted by a pack of orcs, presumably under the orders of that filth Azog. What became of them after that, I do not know, though the orc my son captured did mention something about a morgul arrow striking on of them." Again, the smile spread across his face, making him look almost evil in his own right.

"Thranduil, I do not know what has become of you, but your son is here, I saw him not even five minutes ago as I came to speak with you. As to this "Tauriel" person, I am afraid I do not know anyone by that name, and you know as well as I do that Azog was slain many hundreds of years ago by Thorin's grandfather. Do you not see that your memories, your very person are being manipulated by something?" He watched as emotions played across the wizard's face. First there was disbelief, then confusion before finally settling on anger.

"I am myself, I am under no power but my own. You know nothing wizard and we have no further business to discuss. Leave now, before I make you leave." His voice dropped into a more threatening tone and Gandalf felt an intense confusion sweep over him. His mind began to fog over, his memories fading to background noise before returning with a force, but they were not the same memories they had been before. They were subtly different now, happening in a different order, or with slightly different details than he had originally thought. They all felt wrong somehow, as if they were not truly his, and yet they were, all at the same time. Before he could respond, a mist surrounded him, smelling strongly of the Shire and pipe weed and he was gone.

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Del paced around her room, a strange sense of foreboding wrapping around her, without any apparent cause. The corridor outside was quiet, she was perfectly safe, so why this feeling? She took a breath, trying to steady herself, sitting down by the fire and opening her battered book. She barely made it five words before the door flew open, all but bouncing off the wall behind it. Legolas stood there, his face vacillating wildly between worried and completely blank.

"You must hide. My father intends to end your life. The people of this realm are all changing. You are no longer safe." He collapsed against the door frame, holding his head and groaning as he tried to fight whatever was happening to him. Del didn't waste a second, leaving everything but her book, which she clutched close to her and bolted through the door, sparing the suffering elf one last pitying glance. He seemed to be in intense pain.

She took a hard left in the corridor, heading in a random direction. She knew this was a bad idea, she had no way of knowing where she was in relation to any possible ways out, and if she got caught, there would be no way to evade her captors without getting even more hopelessly lost, but she also knew that even this horrible plan was better than staying where everyone knew she would be and getting killed by an elf king.

As luck would have it, she wasn't far from the audience chamber, but that only did her a little bit of good, as there were also guards on the doors, facing inward, eyes fixed keenly on the only two ways in and out of the chamber. She just managed to keep herself from swearing, twisting in mid step to head in a different direction, thankful to the elleth who'd given her such soft shoes, they barely made a whisper as she walked quickly down corridor after corridor.

She tried to take every upward turning path she could find, thinking that if they were underground, then the higher passages could take her outside, at least to some gardens maybe. Did this place have gardens? Tolkien had never specified what exactly the kingdom of Thranduil looked like, only explaining the parts that had to do with the dwarves, their imprisonment and their escape. If worse came to worse, she could always make her way to the cellars and take the barrel route down to Lake Town, but that seemed like a monumentally bad idea given the circumstances. But what were the circumstances? Why did Thranduil suddenly want her dead? What had Legolas meant by people changing? Did it have something to do with what Gandalf had said? Was this all her fault?

Her thoughts were disrupted by fresh air hitting her dead in the face. She'd been right, the upward facing paths had finally taken her outside, but she was far from free. She had managed to find a garden, carved out of the side of the rocky hill, filled with all kinds of dark leaved plants and perennial flowers. There were trees as well, carefully pruned and shaped so that they followed the curve of the open air cavern. It was beautiful and she wished she could spare a moment to enjoy it, really look around at the flowers, maybe lay in the grass, or at least take off her shoes and stay a while, but she had to get out if she could. So instead, she made for the tallest tree she could find, it was on the far side of the garden, a big old oak, with twisting branches, easy to climb, and all but vaulted into it.

It's highest branches stretched above the wall of the cavern, and she thought that if she could just reach them, she might be able to get down on the other side. But that hope was smashed the moment she looked over the side. There were no trees to jump to, no ground to catch her should she decide to simply fall. There was just the river, in it's deep channel, too far down for her to jump into, and filled with sharp boulders that created white foaming rapids that would surely batter her to death before she got even fifty feet downstream.

"Well shit." She muttered, settling back against the trunk and hoping that she would remain hidden from any who came to look for her. She was on the far side of the tree, hanging somewhat precariously over the edge of the cavern wall, her body balanced on the wide branch she'd crawled out onto, so it would stand to reason that she would be hard to see. But then again, these were elves.

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"Find the human, I want her brought before me alive. There is more to this than she is saying and I will not allow it to continue." Thranduil sat on his throne, his mind buzzing softly with conflicting memories. He wasn't supposed to be like this. He was an elf, part of the blessed of Eru. He was not this cruel or cold. Why was he doing this to a human? She was no threat to him. But even as these thoughts came to him, another string arrived, reminding him of all the times humans had betrayed the races of the Eldar and the Teleri and he felt his anger wash over him anew. He would deal with this and then go find that barbarian of a dwarf and reclaim what is his.

He searched back over the past week, examining every conversation he'd had with Del, the exact details of how she'd behaved, how she'd looked. She was no more or less impressive than any other human female, a bit more exotic perhaps, he'd caught glimpses of what looked like tattoos on her arms when she spoke. She had a tendency to move her hands as she spoke, which caused her to brush the belled sleeves of her gowns up her arms, revealing the colorful patterns. He'd never heard of a woman with tattoos before. Most humans didn't have them, sitting through the process was usually too painful. It was an art form that seemed reserved for dwarves and orcs.

He shook himself from his thoughts, it made no difference what kind of human she was. She was a danger to his realm, she had brought this curse of confusion onto his people, and he would know why before he made her pay for it. Something inside him recoiled from that thought, it was a wholly foreign thought for an elf to have, and yet, it also seemed so natural to him. He groaned, resting his head in his hand as another wave of pain washed over him. She must have the answers, she must.

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Gandalf came to awareness again outside a miserable looking outcropping of rock. He knew instantly where he was, though part of him reminded him that he shouldn't have any knowledge of this place, let alone be familiar with it. But he felt the need to be here, there was something he was supposed to see, something bad.

There was a small bridge like outcropping of rock in front of him, leading to a massive fissure in the rock face. He didn't want to go in there, he shouldn't go in there. This isn't where he was supposed to be, and yet he felt himself moving forward, taking one careful step after the next until he reached the fissure. It felt like an eternity, like he was waging a war with himself, and losing. By the time he found the empty cursed graves, it was over, the thoughts were gone, the voice telling him what was right and what was wrong had fallen silent, and all he had left were altered memories and a mission that he must accomplish at any cost.

He summoned Radagast to him, sending message on the wings of the small birds that were gliding around the graves. It took only a moment for him to arrive. He didn't look as Gandalf remembered, he was much more well kempt, more alert and there was a strange kind of wild intelligence shining in his eyes. The eyes, that was the real difference, they were more wild, untamed and primal. They were the eyes of the eagles, his favorite creature.

"Why have you summoned me here Gandalf. You were meant to be in Mirkwood, with the girl. Tell me, have you learned the truth? Do you believe now that Saruman is up to some mischief?" He walked gracefully across the bridge, giving the graves a distasteful glance before drawing even with his cousin. "What are you doing in this place? It has a foul air about it." He looked back toward the darkened sky, perpetually cast over with clouds.

"Radagast, you seem changed. Are you well?" Gandalf put a hand on the shoulder of his normally meek friend. It was a paternal gesture that he'd taken to offering as a comfort in times of stress.

"I am the one who is changed?" Radagast stepped out of the strange hold of his cousin, suddenly uneasy. "I am no different than I was when last we met. Are you well? You are acting most peculiar." He looked more closely at his fellow wizard, searching for any physical change that could explain his altered behavior.  
"As well as can be expected under the circumstances. They have awakened Radagast, the Nine have risen. You must go to Saruman, gather the White Council, he is amassing his forces in the ruins of Dol Guldur, preparing to make war upon the mountain before Thorin can reach it. I must go warn him." Gandalf's eyes grew more and more intent, like he was being consumed from within.

"What are you talking about Gandalf? We have known of the evil presence in Dol Guldur for quite some time. He is powerless, without form. Yes he may still make misery for those near him, but nothing that the elves cannot handle. We must consider other dangers now." Even as he spoke, he began to feel less sure of himself, his reassurance flagging as thoughts of the creatures in the forest began to creep through his mind. He saw pointed spiders' legs creeping over a ramshackle hut, a wizard cowered inside, desperately casting a spell to save himself and those he cared for. He was completely surrounded with small animals, birds lived beneath his hat, nesting in his hair. He was a gentle soul, kindred to all small things that feared the dark and the talon of the hawk and the eagle.  
When he came to himself again, he found himself changed. He remembered himself as he had been, tall, proud and wild as the world, but it seemed wrong to him now. This was as he should be. He lifted his hat, allowing the birds to nestle into his tangled mess of hair before replacing the hat. Gandalf reached out a hand, resting it reassuringly on his shoulder and gave him a companionable smile.

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Del roused herself from the daze she'd fallen into. She must stay on constant alert if she wanted to make it out of this alive. Two patrols of elves had already passed this place. One had come inside, giving it a cursory once over before leaving, laughing with each other about their king's latest obsession. None of this was right. The elves would've scoured the entire kingdom if their leader asked it of them, or, they were supposed to at least.

She gasped, a thought coming to her so suddenly it almost knocked her from her branch. She'd been considering everything from the perspective of the books only. She'd forgotten all about the movies, preferring not to think of what the man had done to the stories she loved. But, as she thought back to the characterization of the Mirkwood elves, this was exactly what they'd been like. Was that what was going on? But how?

She looked around the tree, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw the coast was clear. There was one way to tell for sure, she would have to find one of the people that wasn't supposed to be here, the ones the Jackson created himself. If anyone knew who Tauriel was, then she'd know. She felt a sinking feeling as her feet hit ground. She didn't know how, but she'd done this. She was the reason this was all happening. First she pulls the curtain back on the truth of their world, and now her presence was somehow changing it. Perhaps she should stop while she was ahead, go out into the forest and just disappear. Maybe if she went back to where she was found, she would be able to get back to her own world. But even as she thought this, Radagast's words echoed in her mind. That would never work, Saruman had done this, for what reason was still unclear, but if a Wizard was behind this, she didn't stand a chance at figuring it out herself. She would need all the help she could get.

As she walked, a plan began to form in her mind. She'd been treating all of this like an external force, something that she shouldn't, or couldn't, affect. But what if she had it backwards? What if she was the only one who could make any real change here now? She would need more than just her own wits, and for that she would need a king. She took a deep breath, hearing footsteps coming around the corner in front of her. She stood still in the corridor, waiting for the guards to discover her. With any luck she would either be taken to a cell or brought before Thranduil. Either way, she would get to speak with him soon, and then she could give the explanation that would hopefully save them all.


	4. Clarity and Fog

The elves who found her were acting distinctly un-elven as they grabbed her roughly by the arms and began to drag her, quite literally as they were walking too fast for her to keep up, through the halls. She had plenty of time to look around as they hauled her down passage after passage, and what she saw was startling to say the least. The whole place had changed, not just the people, or even simple details, the entire complex was different now. The halls were wider, almost always open on one side to a massive cavernous hole. The halls had been changed out with walkways that stretched over the massive drop and the stone looked like stone now, instead of the carved texture it had been that gave it the appearance of wood.

"Can you slow down a little please. I won't run, I promise. I want to see the king." She looked up to one of the guards that had a hold of her, wincing as his grip tightened still more. "Can you at least release your grip a little? You're hurting me quite a bit." She took a chance on the other one, hoping that at least one of her captors hadn't become a raging ass, but the answering increase in pressure had her regretting her decision and biting her lip to keep from crying out.  
She sighed, resolved to just tough it out until they got to the throne room, but the bite of the guards' fingers into the skin of her arms was beginning to bring tears to her eyes. Luckily, they'd covered a fair amount of ground under the punishing pace set by her "captors" and she found herself facing the back of a massive throne before she succumbed to the pain.

"The human, as ordered." That was all that apparently needed saying because before Thranduil could even nod, the two guards had vanished the same way they'd come, leaving her alone with the much more imposing figure of an angry elven king.

"Where have you been hiding?" He leaned forward on his throne, his fingers wrapped firmly around a staff. It as the first she'd seen of the thing, but he was behaving as if he'd had it his whole life.

"I wasn't hiding. I went for a walk in the gardens and fell asleep in one of the trees. When I woke up, those two guards grabbed me and dragged me here. You may want to have a word with them, they were quite rough." She hoped that coming off as if she didn't notice any changes would help to mitigate some of the negative emotions she was feeling directed at her from the king.

"They did as they were told, you appear unharmed, I see no reason to reprimand them. Now, you will tell me everything you know of my world, and if you withhold anything, I will have you thrown back to those filthy creatures I rescued you from." He leaned back in his elaborate throne as if he'd somehow caught her out in something and had her cornered. But she just smiled and nodded.

"Could I have a seat or something, or do you wanna go somewhere else? I just don't fancy standing for that long is all." She shrugged, trying to hide her growing apprehension at the drastic differences she was noticing all around her. It was all happening so fast, she was having trouble keeping things straight in her memory.

"We will remain here, but you may sit if you wish, it matters little to me." He waved a hand with lazy imperiousness. It was the first thing to really get under her skin. One minute he's ready to throw her to a bunch of giant spiders, the next he's acting like she's talking about the weather. What the hell was going on here? She wished, not for the last time, that she'd forced herself to sit through the movies. Maybe they would be able to fill in some of the blanks that she was seeing.

"Alright then." She walked up to the lowest step that led to his throne and sat square in the middle of it. If it bothered him, he didn't show it, so she started in on the concept of movies and how, sometimes, books are made into movies. She told him what she could remember being told about the Hobbit movies, apologizing when she couldn't answer a specific question he had.

"So, these movies, they tell a similar story, but not the exact same? But which is the truer tale? They cannot both have merit." He looked down at her as if he expected her to give him a straight answer.

"Well, neither is true, it's fiction, it's all made up. So the question is really more along the lines of which lie do you like more? I never watched the movies because they differed too much from the story that I knew and loved. But it would seem that the story itself is starting to change, so now I'm wishing I had, it might have made helping you a little easier." She checked herself before she said anything else. She had no way of knowing whether Thranduil had even noticed he was different, and she didn't want to get herself in even more trouble than she was already in by saying something that might upset him.

"What do you mean, the story itself is starting to change?" He leaned forward, a look of confusion breaking through his mask of indifference.

"Well, it's just that things here aren't the same as they were when I first woke up. The halls aren't halls anymore, they're walkways over a big open chasm." She gestured to the chasm that surrounded the throne. "The people are different, they act differently and, if you'll pardon my saying it, you've changed as well." She said this last with much less surety than the rest of her list, and she waited, without breathing, to see if he would react to it.

"I have not changed, I have always been this way." He turned his head from her, gripping his staff a little harder.

"I know you didn't have a staff when I first met you, and your clothes are different, as is you crown, it's all much more extravagant than it was just a week or so ago. I think it may be because two different stories are bleeding together." She knew she'd said too much the moment it left her mouth.

"As I recall, you didn't think any of this was real when we first met. How can you be sure that what you are remembering is true, and not tainted by the shock you felt at that moment?" He didn't turn to face her, but his body relaxed just a bit, clearly he thought he had her.

"Well, not to argue, but I have an eidetic memory, I can remember pretty much everything I've ever seen with complete clarity and accuracy." She tried not to shrink in on herself as the king turned his gaze to her. She'd made him angry again, not that that seemed very difficult to do at the moment.

"Then I am sure you will become quite familiar with the view from your cell. Take her away." He waved his hand again, he seemed fond of doing that, and two guards that she hadn't even seen, sprang seemingly out of thin air and grabbed her arms, right in the same spot the others had, causing her to cry out. She bit her lip to cut off the sound, but all three sets of eyes were now on her again. "Are you injured?" Thranduil's voice seemed suddenly soft as he descended the steps of his throne and came even with her.

"It's nothing, just where the other guards had kind of a tight grip on me. I think they gave me a few bruises, pretty deep ones from the feel of it." She didn't look up, feeling a blush color her cheeks as the guards released her and Thranduil stepped closer. She took an involuntary step back, feeling extremely uncomfortable with everything that was going on right now.

"I will not harm you, I merely wish to inspect the bruises." He stepped forward again, his hand reaching out and taking her arm, gently, and rolling the sleeve back, revealing pale skin and tattoos. She felt a twinge of self consciousness when the gasps echoed around them, apparently the guards had never seen a tattooed woman before, but she managed to keep the color from her cheeks this time and busied herself with any distraction she could manage to keep her mind off the impossibly smooth fingers now tracing the tender skin of her upper arms. She expected a quick once over and then an order to either her room or a cell, but he just kept running his fingers over her skin.

"So, will I live doc?" She laughed softly, looking from his hand to his face, watching the far away look recede and his mask return.

"They are minor, I will have the guards escort you to your room. I will come for you shortly, we still have much to discuss." He turned, dropping her arm as he moved, motioning for the guards to take her away. They did so without touching her this time, and she happily forgot to remind him that she was supposed to be going to the dungeons.

As they walked along the all together too narrow strips of stone that served as walkways, Del found herself wishing she had some way of communicating with the world outside this kingdom. She wished she could get a message to Gandalf or Radagast, someone who was able to actually do something about the changes that were going on. She felt suddenly small, useless and fragile and very very alone.

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Gandalf couldn't remember how he'd come to be in a cage. He looked up at it from the ground, no more than six feet below it, and sighed, scratching his head. Why had he been in that thing? How had he gotten there, and for that matter, where was he? He looked around, taking note of every stone and barren tree, it all seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. He turned, hearing the groan that heralded the unfortunate orc's return to consciousness. This was the first creature he remembered seeing, it had unwisely come to trouble him while he was in the cage and received a beating for its trouble.

"Ah, you're awake, splendid. You'll find, I think, that you are unable to move. Do not worry, I have done that. I have questions you see, questions that need rather urgent answers, and I think you may be just the one to give them to me." He sat beside the orc, feeling for his pipe and weed pouch. Both were present and still intact, though his staff had gone conspicuously missing.

"I ain't tellin' you nothin'." The orc growled. Gandalf had expected this and simply cracked a smile, dragging the orc a little closer to the very unfortunately high drop they were both perched on.

"Are you quite sure?" He allowed the orc's face to pass over the edge of the drop and got all the answer he needed from the resulting squeak of terror. "Very good then, shall we begin?"

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Galadriel came to herself quite suddenly, something she'd not experienced in a very long time. She had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. She scanned around herself quickly, trying to find a land mark she recognized, but the whole world seemed different.

"Lady Galadriel? Are you well?" Elrond's voice echoed up to her from where he was standing, perched against a wall.

"I am, save that I do not know where I am." She smiled tightly. It wasn't that she didn't like Elrond, she'd just never approved of her daughter's marriage to him. It made things a little difficult when it came to family meetings.

"Neither do we. Nor do we know how we came to be wherever we are." Elrond leapt lightly from his perch to the crumbling walkway, followed closely by Saruman the White. Galadriel nodded a swift courtsey to the wizard before closing the distance between them.

"I feel as if I should know this place, but nothing is familiar to me." She took another look around, confirming that she was, indeed, quite lost." It was at this moment that the doors before them opened wide and a rather beaten looking orc stumbled out and over the edge of the walkway. Gandalf stood behind him.

"Well that was rather hasty of him. Oh well." He shrugged, fixing his hat back on his head and getting a good grip on his staff before looking up and seeing the rest of the council. "Oh, hello." He smiled his knowing smile and walked up to his cousin in white.

"Gandalf the Grey, what business do you have here, wherever this is." Saruman asked, his tone even, betraying nothing as was his custom.

"I must confess I have no idea. I came to myself, as if from a waking dream, and found I had been locked in a cage. It was quite confusing for me I can tell you. But I have learned a little at least from that orc fellow. We are in Dol Guldur, though I don't remember it being here or looking this way, and there is an army marching towards the Lonely Mountain." He reported this as if it were the weather.

"The Lonely Mountain? For what reason?" Elrond wondered aloud.

"I can only assume it is for the treasure within, though they must contend with a dragon first." Gandalf laughed softly.

"But surely the dwarves will have reached the mountain by the time the army arrives. Does this not put them in danger?" Saruman stated, keeping a careful eye on everyone.

"Nonsense. What do you think they have a burglar for? They do not intend to retake the mountain, they are quite content in the Blue Mountains, they merely wish to reclaim some of the wealth they lost to that great old worm." He smiled as he spoke, but it seemed suddenly false and his face began to slide into a mask of worry. Similar changes began on the faces of his companions, with the exception of Saruman.

Gandalf's mind began to cloud over once again, the thoughts coming to him louder now, pulling him back into the false memories. He watched as his companions suffered, thinking he should do something, help them in some way, but also thinking that he shouldn't, that they were going back to how they should be. But as his eyes fell on Saruman, he felt his heart still. The wizard looked perfectly lucid, his face was serene and calm, as it always was, and he was smiling. That was the last thought he had before his mind slid back into the fog and he suddenly found himself with a mighty need to go back into Dol Guldur and deal with the shadow he knew was there.

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Thranduil stood outside the door to Del's room, feeling all manner of incorrect things. He felt as if he should protect her, like she was something precious that needed to be kept safe, but also he felt that he should expel her and all who were not his subjects from his kingdom and never open the doors again. Neither of these feelings was true, neither was representative of who he was, and yet he could not rid himself of them. Why had he come here? What was he doing? He had to tell her something, but what? He knocked as the thought finally came to him, sighing as he heard the startled gasp from the other side of the door. He was not so terrifying as all that after all, she was being dramatic.

"Oh, hello again." Del's face stretched into a false smile, she was still afraid of him then.

"Good evening Del. I have come to inform you that we will be leaving for a time. The dwarves have reclaimed their home and I go to seek that which is mine by right." He nodded to her, turning to walk away. He half expected her to come out after him and correct him in some way. To tell him that his thoughts were wrong or that he meant to be doing this. But she let him go, simply nodding and closing the door behind her as she returned to her room. Perhaps this meant that this one thought had been a truly clear one.


	5. Nightmares and Embers

They were set to depart within the fortnight, something that made Del feel entirely too anxious for her liking. Thranduil had informed her of this prior to his first evening visit to her rooms. He was determined to get any information he could out of her before they left for Lake Town so that he could plan, as much as was possible under the current circumstances, for any offensive action that might be necessary. Tonight was their first conversation since the king had made his declaration to move on the mountain. Thranduil kept Del awake long into the night, his consciousness vacillating wildly between the book persona she'd known since she was young and the movie persona that she was still trying to learn. It made for a difficult conversation to say the least as one moment they would be discussing the finer points of elven history, and then, with no warning, he would return to demanding every scrap of information about the dwarves and their mission that she could give him. The latter conversation has been somewhat stymied by the fact that Del didn't know exactly what the dwarves were up to at present.

If she had to venture a guess she would say that they were also being affected by whatever was causing the two story lines to merge, but as she hadn't ever seen the movies, only heard brief plot points from her friends who had, she didn't know what the movie version of the dwarves journey to the mountain entailed. But none of this seemed to matter to the irrational elven king as he had yet to let the discussion drop.

"You must know more! You said you were an expert on the subject!" Thranduil rose from his chair in a flourish of fabric and ice blonde hair. Del had been startled by the motion at first, thinking perhaps he meant to attack her or drag her to a cell. But that had been hours ago, she had long since become inured to it.

"As I have said before, though you seem keen to ignore me, I know the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, the author. The movies were changed drastically by their director, a rather insufferable man named Peter Jackson. I haven't seen the movies and do not know their story, therefore I cannot give you the information you are requesting." If Thranduil had been paying attention, he would have noticed the difference in how Del was speaking. It was an old habit of hers, that when she was beginning to get angry, she would speak more deliberately, using the proper grammar she'd learned in school. She had started it as a way to keep from saying hurtful things to the people she was angry with, she'd lost more than one boyfriend to her temper. To those who knew her well, it was a warning sign to back off, or face the consequences. Thranduil rounded on her, his eyes cold and calculating.

"So you are saying you have no knowledge of what the dwarves intend to do once they reach the mountain?" He squared his body to face her, his eyes taking on a victorious shine.

"I know one way the story plays out. The dwarves from the written tale don't want to retake the mountain, all they want to do is take back some of the wealth that Smaug has kept from them. That is why they needed the hobbit, he's their burglar. You don't take a burglar into a fight, it makes no sense. But you say that you've heard Thorin state he means to reclaim his homeland, which I can only assume means he wants to either drive out, or kill, the dragon currently living there. Seeing as that is the exact opposite of the storyline I know, I am afraid I cannot tell you what will come of such actions. So in one way, I don't have a clue what they're doing, however in another, I could write down the exact path they will take to reclaim their gold." She crossed her arms over her chest, watching the look of victory fall into one of confusion and anger.

"But what of the Arkenstone? You have yet to even mention it though I know Oakenshield seeks nothing else." He seated himself again, his look of confusion turning pensive.

"Again, I have no way of answering that. In the book, you don't even know about the Arkenstone, no one does. It doesn't even come into play until the dwarves have already moved into the mountain, and before you start arguing again, in the book, it was an accident. They didn't intend to even wake Smaug let along fight him, but the scent of a strange creature roused him and he thought he was under attack from Lake Town and attacked. Bard killed him and that was that. The dwarves were simply staying in the mountain until they were rested and had every intention of leaving. It was during this time that Thorin discovered the Arkenstone. The fact that you know of it, along with far to many others, goes directly against the story I know." She shrugged, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, feeling all together too tired and frustrated to continue speaking. She turned her head from the king, who seemed still deep in thought, and looked over the room that had been the majority of her world since she'd arrived.

At first, she had loved this place, it was everything she had imagined as she read through her tattered copy of the Hobbit. But as her incarceration continued, she had long since given up any ideas about her personal freedom, she found that she was coming to hate it all. Part of this could be due to the fact that nothing looked as it had when she first awoke in this room, it was all changed to what she could only assume was the movie aesthetic and she had to admit, she didn't like it. More than that though, was the fact that she couldn't leave. She had never been one who took well to being stuck in one place, preferring to explore and move as often as possible, and when she found herself stagnating in a location or house for too long, she began to hate the very sight of it.

"I believe I am coming to understand your frustration." The voice of the king shook her from her internal reflection and brought her sharply back to the conversation at hand.

"What do you mean?" She attempted to keep the annoyance from her voice but didn't quite manage it. A flash of anger passes over the elven features she was still trying to get used to, and she braced herself for another outburst, but it never came.

"I have been trying to reconcile everything you have told me with what I know to be true of this world. There are moments when what you say is the same truth I know, but those moments are becoming few and far between. For the other times, nothing you say makes any sense to me. It is like you are telling me the history of a similar world, with all the same names and places, only the people are different. It is a world, but it is not my world." He sighed, resting his head in one large hand, eyes closed against the battle that must be waging in his mind.

"Thranduil, please, we are both tired. I know elves don't require a great deal of sleep, but humans do, and I am exhausted. I'm sorry that what I've told you has caused you this turmoil, but neither one of us is going to figure it out tonight. Perhaps we should call it a wash and pick up again tomorrow." She stood, fully intending to go to sleep, whether or not he was willing to allow it, and was surprised to see a small smile spread across his weary features.

"Yes, you are right, I am tired. I am sorry to have kept you up so late." He stood, bowing slightly to her and turned toward the door.

"Wait. I have to ask something, and it may been very difficult for you to answer, but I would appreciate the attempt." She turned back toward him as he paused in his stride. He turned, a guarded expression on his face, and nodded, indicating for her to continue. "This is the first time that you have been anything but antagonistic toward me since this whole mess began. What is it that you are actually angry about?" She kept her expression neutral as she spoke, hoping to mitigate at least some of the anger she was no doubt about to see, but her only answer was silence, and an almost pained expression. Thranduil stood very still for a moment, his eyes drifting to her face before he turned, walking quickly from the room. "Well I suppose that could've gone worse, though I wish he would have at least attempted to answer me. Where's a wizard when you need one."

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Gandalf awoke astride a horse. He had no idea why he was on a horse, or where the horse had been going before it stopped, but he had a sick feeling that nothing good would come of whatever errand he had been on. He took a breath, dismounting with ease and reaching into one of his many pockets, fishing around for his pipe and weed. He pulled both free from the fabric that seemed more tattered that it should have been and set about packing and lighting the bowl of his pipe. It had always served him well in the past, when he was confused as to the nature of any given situation, to take a moment, sit down, and smoke his pipe.

"Now then, let's see what we can remember eh my friend?" He directed his words up to the head of horse, who simply neighed softly, shook its mane of hair, and settled down beside him. "Last I recall, I did not have you with me, and I was with the Lady Galadriel, speaking about...well isn't that odd. I can't seem to remember what we were speaking about. But I do remember that she was not alone, Elrond was with her, as well as my cousin Saruman the White." As soon as the name left his lips, memories of conversations with Radagast, though it did not look like the Radagast he thought he knew, surfaced and danced across his mind.

The sense of dread deepened as he tried to piece together the hazy half memories he had of everything that had transpired since he had last seen his fellow wizard. He had a vague recollection of a battle, something about darkness, and a very clear impression of not being able to trust Saruman any longer.

"Oh dear. I am afraid we are caught up in some quite sinister business my good fellow. But what am I to do about it? In times like these, I turn first to Saruman, but he is just who I cannot turn to now. Radagast would be of no use, he knows little of complex spell craft, and I do not know who else I may be able to trust. This is quite the pretty pickle is it not? Well, I shall finish this pipe and then set on my way, a way that I shall figure out as I smoke." He smiled, feeling the horse's breathing return to a more normal rhythm. "And I do apologize, I must have been running you quite hard. I'll be sure to go more easily from here on out."

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Del was never one to have bad dreams. She had vicious night terrors as a child, but after a few trips to a therapist, and a short lived prescription of some type or another, they had vanished. Ever since, nightmares had been something that just didn't happen to her. So when she found herself bolting right out of the bed, covered in sweat and panting as if she'd just run a marathon, she was understandably confused. The images themselves were already fading from her mind, burning away in the light of consciousness, but the fear, that was still clinging to her. She jumped away from the bed, sure that something was crawling across it toward her, but on a second look, she saw that it was just a shadow, thrown up by the slowly dying fire. She watched the flames for a moment as they sputtered, searching for any piece of fuel that they had not already consumed, and she was filled with a strange need to not be in the dark alone. She scurried over to the fireplace, feeling sparks of hyper awareness dance along her back, now turned to the empty room, and began to throw split logs onto the dying, flickering light.

She was no good with fires. She'd had a boyfriend, who was an eagle scout, attempt to teach her how to build a "good" fire, but it had not ended well, she still had the scar on her palm from where the fire had leapt out at her, though it was now almost too faint to see. If she'd been thinking clearly, she would have remembered this particular instance and, perhaps, been a little more careful, as it was, she was almost in a panic to keep the light from disappearing, and got a little over zealous with the wood.

A log left her hand a little too quickly, hitting the white hot remnants of another piece of wood, shooting sparks out of the fireplace and directly onto her arms and face. She squealed in pain, falling back from the shower of heat and batted blindly at her face, trying to ensure that no sparks or wood got into her eyes. Logically, she knew that she should keep her eyes closed until she was sure there was no danger to them, but the thought of not being able to see sent her into a new spiral of panic and she threw them open, screaming as hot sparks danced into them.

It was this scream that alerted the guards, posted just outside the door, that she was in distress, and she was being hauled to her feet within seconds, questions echoing around her in elven as she tried to free her arms from their grasp, motioning to her eyes, which had now begun to water, in the hopes that they would understand.

Lucky for her, one of the guards noticed the singed fabric of her night gown and followed the logical jump to why she had screamed. He, she assumed it was a male as she had not seen any female guard members save Tauriel, sat her down and pulled her hands from her face as she pawed at her eyes insistently. He barked an order to his comrade and she heard the sound of quickly retreating foot steps before a gentle pressure settled around her eyes. She felt cool fingers begin to probe the skin, pulling lightly against her eyelids, brushing stray cinders away, all the while whispering calming words to her in a language she still didn't understand.

"You may go." The voice was not one that usually made her feel anything close to relief, but it was familiar to her, and thus, in this moment, just what she needed. More tears sprang to her eyes, causing the pain to redouble, and she felt herself beginning to come apart. She tried to keep the sob down, tried to choke it back into her lungs, but the moment she felt his hands on her face, it popped quietly out, bringing a cascade of tears with it. "Del, I need you to open your eyes. Do you understand?"

She nodded, unable to respond verbally as she was still doing battle with the tiny hiccuping sobs that seemed determined to escape her throat. The pain was immense as she dragged her eyelids over the tender flesh of her eyes. Everything was blurred and unfocused, though some of it could be attributed to the tears that wouldn't stop, the damage was apparent to her.

"What happened?" Thranduil's voice was soft, his fuzzy outline moved slowly and carefully around her field of vision, his hands pressing on the damaged skin. As his question settled in her mind, she felt the panic well up in her chest. She knew, logically, that everything she had done since waking up, was ridiculous, but she couldn't help it as words pushed each other out of her mouth.

"I couldn't let the fire go out. I couldn't be in the dark, not by myself." She knew, even as she said it, that she was making no sense. She expected a harsh rebuke, some callous comment about her weakness perhaps, but not the quiet shushing sounds that filled the air around her.

"You had troubled dreams?" His hands left her face, quickly replaced with a cold cloth that both soothed and stung her sensitive skin.

"I can't remember anything specific, only fear. I knew I wasn't alone in the room, and that I had to keep the fire going. Something was here, and it meant to do me harm if the light went out." She shuddered, feeling the hyper awareness creep down her back again, sending shivers and goose bumps dancing over her skin.

"You are safe here, no one will harm you. You and I are the only ones here. You are safe." He applied a bit of gentle pressure to her covered eyes and she hissed, the liquid seeping between her closed lids to sting the damaged flesh beneath them.

"It was so real. I can still feel it." She tried to keep her body relaxed, tried to focus on anything but the seemingly real threat that emanated from the open room to her back. Thranduil drew breath to respond, but was interrupted by a loud shrieking that seemed to come from right outside the window. It sent a fresh shot of panic through Del's body and she found herself moving away from it before Thranduil's arms closed around her shaking form as her body went slack and she fell once more into unconsciousness.


	6. In Peril Between Worlds

Her head felt immensely heavy. Her senses were deadened, like the world was lined with dense cotton batting. She tried to move, but her limbs wouldn't respond. The only thing she was truly aware of was pain. It started in the middle of her spine and radiated outward in burning waves. The pain had been what woke her, if she could be said to be awake.

"Del, sweet heart, please wake up. Just move a finger, just a twitch, please." It was her mother's voice, soft and scared, so close and yet so remote. Tears sprang to her eyes as she heard a soft sob escape the woman's throat.

Mom, I'm here, I'm awake.

"Diana, come home, she's stable and you need your rest." Her father's soothing baritone floated quietly over her and settled into her bones, giving her a sense of security with just the knowledge that he was there.

"No. I'm not leaving here until she wakes up, I don't care how long it takes. The first thing this girl sees is gonna be her momma." She tried to sound strong, Del could even imagine the look she would have on her face as she stubbornly swiped at the tears on her face, but there was a brittleness to her voice that sounded strange. It wasn't something that Del had ever heard before, and it made her feel scared. Her father laughed softly, setting something on the side of what could be assumed to be a bed and then settled down into a chair.

"She's strong, she'll be up and about in no time. Remember, when she was ten and fell out of that tree? She was out for hours in the emergency room and then, with no warning, up she sprang and was ready to go home and get some ice cream. You watch, this'll be no different."

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Thranduil paced the floor of the healing room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, waiting to hear any reasonable theory as to why Del was lying unconscious in a bed. At first he had simply assumed she had gotten over stimulated by a nightmare, but as the hours wore on and she refused to wake, he had begun to feel a cold dread creep down his spine.

The healers had examined her thoroughly, multiple times, and yet there were still no answers to be had. She was perfectly healthy, uninjured and moderately well rested, and yet she would not wake. He had been removed before the last exam, the healers being the only ones with the power to override his wishes, due to his own rising temper which left him alone as they attempted to find any mental or spiritual reason for this unusual slumber.

He released a slow sigh, his body beginning to sink under the weight of a worry he didn't quite understand. He had arguably gotten all of the information from her that was available, and yet the thought of losing her made his heart constrict. When he thought of the silence that would descend around him with her absence, it almost physically hurt. He hadn't realized how much she had grown on him. Yes, she was irritating, she was human and she was unendingly strange, but something about her made him feel better than he had in centuries. Arguing with her was invigorating and it forced him to look at things from a new perspective, something that was not easy for someone as long lived as an elf, and he found that he didn't want to be without it.

"My lord, I have news." The elleth sounded exhausted.

"I do not need news. Do you have answers?" His response was more terse than he intended, the elleth physically recoiled under the weight of its implications.

"We believe so my lord. The woman's body is perfectly fine, as we had previously discovered, but her mind is not. Whatever strange power drew her to us is beginning to fail, leaving her to maintain her presence here alone. Some part of her mind is working furiously to keep herself here, but, a larger part has already gone. She is trying to exist in two realms at once, and the force will begin to harm her soon. If we cannot wake her, either in our world or her own, she will not survive the day." The elleth bowed, not waiting for a dismissal before turning and disappearing into the healer's resting quarters.

Thranduil had remained calm through out the explanation, absorbing the information with a passive air, but as he was left alone once again, he felt his facade crumble. He felt anger, sadness, fear and despair suffuse his being as the weight of the situation settled inside him. Confusion began to trickle into his mind as well. Why was he reacting so strongly to all of this? Yes, she was an interesting diversion to have around. Yes, she made him think and feel differently with her point of view. Yes, he would miss her if she were to go back to her own world. But none of this should warrant such a drastic reaction.  
He straightened his back, turning and stalking soundlessly from the room. He needed to speak to a wizard.

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Radagast was never far from the Greenwood, or, Mirkwood as it was slowly coming to be known. It was his true home and where he felt the most like himself, and though this was common knowledge, to those who made it their business to track the movements of wizards, he never got much by the way of company. However, this day had been much different. Two elves had been by already, one to inquire about the rise in the spider population and another who was seeking aid for a particularly nasty animal bite. But this one was different. He walked with a much more determined air, his body almost completely covered in a dark cloak. Clearly he had no wish to be known by those around him, but it would take more than a cloak to fool the eyes of a wizard.

"Thranduil, alone in the forest, something must truly be troubling you for that to happen." He relaxed back against the stump of a tree, watching as the figure stilled, tensed and relaxed, porcelain white hands moving up to draw back the hood of the cloak, revealing an irritated looking elven king.

"Radagast, hail and well met. I come seeking counsel." He stepped forward, sinking down to the forest floor to be at eye level with the brown wizard.

"So I gathered from your coming here yourself. Do you seek particular advice?" Radagast knew he should probably be less flippant, Thranduil had a tendency to be easily upset, but it had been a while since he felt like himself and he intended to ride it out as long as it lasted.

"You know of the human woman in my care yes? She had fallen...ill, and I do not know how to remedy the situation. My healers have tried every technique they know of, but none have succeeded." He tried to keep his voice neutral, but the emotions within him were beginning to over take his sense.

"You say she is ill? What is the nature of the ailment? It must be truly dire if you are seeking outside counsel." Radagast leaned forward, a sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. Vague memories of the woman began to circle in his mind, gaining clarity as Thranduil explained the poor soul's situation. As he spoke of a power that held her here, an image of Gandalf exploded with full clarity in his mind. Saruman, he had been the one to bring the girl here, it was his power that had held her in place. Why would it now be absent? What was his cousin trying to do? He nodded as Thranduil finished his tale, standing with an urgency that seemed to startle the king. "I will come with you now and send a message to my cousin Gandalf. We do not have time to debate what is best for the woman, I will attempt to anchor her mind to this world, but I will not be able to do it alone." He motioned for a bird that was resting on a branch nearby, whispering a message to it the moment it made contact wit his hand. Within another moment it was gone and the wizard had drawn even with the still startled elven king.

"You said you will anchor her here? Does that mean she will never be able to return to her own land?" Thranduil asked, knowing the answer even before he asked.

"Yes. Doing this will sever her tie to her home. Her soul will no longer belong there, but there is no other option. I cannot send her home, a power greater than mine forged the path that brought her here, and I cannot change it to get her back, so we must pull her through fully, or she will die."

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Del had heard horror stories of people being awake while in a coma, sensing the world around them, hearing snippets of conversations, even having full blown dreams of things that had actually occurred around them. But she had never heard of what she was currently experiencing. She was fully aware, all the time. She couldn't move, or speak, but she could hear everything that was going on around her, she could feel everything the doctors did and she knew that she wasn't going to wake up.

She had tried for the better part of a day to twitch a finger. Nothing overly difficult, just a single twitch to get her mom to stop crying. It was all she did it seemed, just hold the hand of her comatose daughter and cry brokenly over her arm, soaking the hospital gown through to the skin. It was heart breaking to experience, even worse once she knew that there was no way to give the woman what she so desperately wanted.

She had managed to figure out what had happened to her, over the time she'd been aware. The nurses liked to talk when they thought no one was around, or awake, to listen, and they liked to mock her for her "stupid accident". It all started on the day she woke up in Middle Earth. While she'd been going through a confusing adventure with elves and spiders, her body had been here, the apparent victim of a fallen tree branch that she had been resting under.

As accidents went, it was fairly stupid, falling asleep under a tree and getting brained by a branch was a pretty silly way to go, but it didn't make her feel any better about the situation. But there was something else as well, something about this entire experience that seemed...fake. She would never fall asleep directly under a tree, she'd had too many bad days with birds to feel comfortable with the idea, and how big of a branch had she been hit by to send her into a coma? Where was her book? Where were any of her siblings? Why did her mother never seem to go home, or shower, or eat? It felt like this whole thing was a scene in a show or book, instead of real life.

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Radagast stood over the body of the woman he barely knew. Thranduil had told him she was healthy, but he found it hard to believe. She looked ragged, her skin was too pale, her hair was too dull and her breathing was becoming more erratic by the minute. Something was draining the life from her, and he had a fairly good idea what it was.

"Radagast." The call was accompanied by the thud of a staff on stone.

"Gandalf, I thank you for your haste. Are you prepared?" Radagast moved, making room for his cousin to stand beside him.

"I am, though I do not agree that this is the wisest course, I will aid you." His face was grim, his tone revealing the anger he was concealing.

"Would that there were time to discuss it. We will deal with the true cause of this in due time." Radagast extended his staff over the prone body before him, watching Gandalf do the same from the corner of his eye. The room darkened as they gathered power into themselves, their voices echoing dimly off the walls around them as they began to chant. It was no real language, no real words, just sounds of different pitches and tones, weaving together into a magic similar to that which had made the world in the beginning of days. The divinity of the wizards was revealed to those within the healing chamber as the woven energy of the song began to pulse and glow, settling over the body of the woman, surrounding her.

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Del was in the middle of listening to a joke when she felt something near her navel getting yanked violently downward. It made the ever present pain in her spine seem like a tickle by comparison. Her skin began to heat up as the pull began to grow stronger, spreading from her navel to the whole of her torso. It felt as if someone had fish hooked her insides and was slowly reeling her in. She wished she could scream, or thrash, or fall unconscious, anything to escape the pain that was slowly spreading through her entire body. As it moved up her neck, she felt the breath leave her body, her heart stilling as her mind screamed for escape. The last sounds she heard before she was pulled into a fiery void of nothingness and pain, was the whine of her heart monitor going flat, and the anguished scream of her mother changing to a high pitched shriek of fury.

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Thranduil watched in awe as the wizards worked their magic. The song was terrifying to behold, both beautiful and terrible as it echoed around him, the waved of the sound visible to all in the room. Del's body thrashed beneath the net that surrounded her. The movements were so violent, he feared she would wake with a host of new injuries. He moved forward, intent on either aiding the wizards, or stopping the spell, when the music rose to a crescendo that stopped him in his tracks. The room exploded with light, the force of it pushing him back a step, before everything went dark and silent.

"It is done." Gandalf's voice was unlike Thranduil had ever heard it before, rough, abused, and tired. Radagast had yet to speak, but a heavy thud and gasp was enough to speak to his state.

"Bring light, help the wizards to beds and give them miruvor to replenish them." He didn't wait to see if his orders were followed, moving instead to the still unconscious woman on the bed. Her skin had returned to its former color, her hair had regained its luster and her breathing had returned to what seemed to be normal. He held his breath for a moment, watching her eyes move behind the lids as candles were placed on either side of the bed.

"No!" Her body shot from the bed, her eyes flying wide with fear. Her eyes danced quickly over the scene before her, taking in the elves and the wizards before traveling up to the eyes of the king.

"Del, please be calm, you are safe now." He rested a hand softly on her cheek, brushing a tear away.

"No I'm not. I don't think I'll ever be safe again."


	7. Very bad News and A Very Bad Mood

"What do you mean I can't go home?" Her voice rose almost a full octave as she shouted up at the wizards. She had tried to leave the bed several times during the conversation, only to be pushed back into it by the strangely silent Thranduil, who seemed to be standing sentinel beside her.

"We mean what we have said. Your mind was being pulled toward two realms at once. If we had not intervened, you would not be here now to be angry." Gandalf drew short puffs from his pipe, clearly just as agitated as Del, though for wildly different reasons.

"So why didn't you just send me home? Who the hell told you to trap me here?" She moved to get up again, growling as Thranduil's large hand settled on her shoulder, applying stubborn pressure until she settled back on the bed.

"As we have said, we could not overcome the power that brought you here. That means we could not create a pathway back to your world for your mind to travel safely. If we had tried, your consciousness would have become caught in an eternal loop of nothingness. This was the only safe way to get you back to yourself. I am truly sorry it could not be done." Radagast patted her leg softly, motioning for his cousin to follow him out as Del screamed insults and threats after them both.

"You should not be angry with them. They saved your life." Thranduil sat gently beside her on the bed, his face a passive mask.

"Easy for you to say, you belong here." She crossed her arms over her chest, wincing as the muscles screamed in protest. Apparently, the spell that brought her here fully had been very hard on her physical body, and she was still healing from it.

"You could belong here too, with time." He tried not to see how petulant she was being, tried not to feel the fondness he'd discovered when she first fell, but it seemed impossible. Now that he knew of these feelings, they would not leave him be. Her every move elicited some small feeling in him.

"I thought you didn't like me? Whatever happened to "cross me again and you'll spend your life in the dungeons"?" She looked over at him, feeling like something between them had changed.

"I have no memory of saying that, though I am sure I was justified in the threat at the time. As to my opinion of you, let us say that it has changed, and leave it at that." He smiled, standing from the bed and motioning for a healer to come take his place. It was a routine that they had fallen into rather swiftly. There must always been someone present with her, while she was asleep and awake, in case the person or creature that made the attempt on her life, tried again.  
She lapsed into silence, watching the healer take her place in the chair by the bed. She had fought the idea at first, saying that she didn't need a baby sitter every time she took a nap, but as the days progressed, she began to grow used to the presence at her side. The healers had taken to singing softly as they watched her, their hands kept busy by winding herbs for drying or rolling cloth into bandages. It was the most beautiful thing Del had ever heard. The books had always described the elves singing as other worldly, too perfect to be of this earth, but she'd never been able to comprehend that until now.

Even the nightmares, still stubbornly clinging to her subconscious despite her no longer being in any danger, were no match for the melodies. She would wake from a horrible vision, only to be soothed by the sweet soprano of whichever healer was beside her, and any dream she had after was peaceful and full of nature and sunlight.

Occasionally, and she would never admit it, she would hear a much deeper voice, singing a different tune to the songs the healers seemed to favor. She knew who it was that was singing, his voice was too distinct to be mistaken for anyone else. It was startling the first night, to wake from a nightmare and hear a deep rolling voice instead of the lilting falsetto she'd grown accustomed to. But as she lay there, eyes still wide from the monsters in her mind, a large hand settled over her arm and she found herself falling back into slumber before she could question it.

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The days wore on slowly, far too slowly for someone like Del, who preferred to be either moving or reading whenever possible. The healers had been wonderful, trying to teach her some of what they did in order to keep her mind busy, but between the language barrier and the menial nature of the tasks, she only became more frustrated.

The only breaks from the monotony came in the form of language lessons with Tauriel. Thranduil had apparently passed down orders that she be taught their language, perhaps his way of making her feel like she could belong here someday. The order had been passed from person to person, most of which were male, until it landed in Tauriel's lap. She had been the only one to agree to it, not being able to site gender as a reason to refuse, and had taken up the task with the same vigor she showed in all other aspects of her life.

It had been confusing at first, the language was just as complex to learn as it was to write, and Del had seriously considered giving up on more than one occasion. Foreign languages had never been her strongest subject, and it would appear that time had not changed that fact at all. But between Tauriel's skillful teaching and her own perseverance, she was beginning to get a grasp on the basics. It was during one such surprise that she received a rather unpleasant surprise.

Tauriel had been running through basic pronunciations with her, correcting every other sound she made, or so it seemed, when the doors all but burst off their hinges. Thranduil stood in the doorway, his face a stony mask, with the exception of his eyes. Del had never seen such anger in one person before. She felt her stomach drop as something occurred to her. They'd gone nearly a month without his less than charitable persona showing itself, and while the world itself had switched almost entirely over to the "movie" version of itself, Thranduil, and the other elves Del had contact with, seemed to have found a happy medium between the two. However, as she met his eyes, she knew that the peace was over.

"Everyone leave, now." His voice was deathly quiet, barely reaching her range of hearing. The elves, however, understood him and jumped to action as if he'd shouted. The gathered whatever they'd been working on and stowed it somewhere it wouldn't be grabbed or tossed and hurried from the room, all stopping to bow. Tauriel was the last to leave, her face worried and upset as she looked back at the helpless human she'd come to know. There was a warning in her gaze that Del understood, but could not acknowledge, so she settled for silence, resting her arms at her sides and dropping her gaze to one of the many flower vases around the room.

His footsteps were audible as he moved, something he did for show no doubt as she knew he could be silent when he wished to be. Each step sent another wave of anxious chills over her skin, her stomach twisting up into a knot as her mind raced through the possible scenarios she might be put into. The room suddenly felt much smaller, as if each foot fall was eating up another inch worth of space from the room over all. She knew that whatever was about to happen to her was not going to be enjoyable, but she hoped that it wouldn't be debilitating or lethal. She'd come through too much to die in a bed like an invalid.  
"You have done a good job of distracting me. Your little brush with death was masterful. Tell me, did the wizard coach you?" He spaced at the side of the bed, his hands clasped with white knuckled intensity.

Thranduil's breath was ragged, like he'd just finished a particularly intense fight. She heard the rustle of fabric on stone moving toward her and, despite her efforts, she flinched away from it. She knew it would cause one of two reactions, either he would leave, or it would only anger him further. The hand curling into her hair was her answer as to which she was in for. She managed to prepare herself, tuning out most of the pain as her head was wrenched backward by the scalp, but a small cry of pain managed to squeak its way out of her mouth.

"You will tell me the truth, now. I will not be the pawn of a wizard, or a woman too weak to care for herself. Do you understand?" His eyes burned into her own, warning her of the very real possibility of her death if she did not answer. She opened her mouth to speak, but fear had stolen her ability to speak so she settled for nodding. "Good." He released her hair with a shove, knocking her back to the mattress. She took a moment to collect herself, calm her racing heart and regain strength in her limbs, before she pushed herself up and resumed her position of polite non confrontation. She was careful not to look directly at him, settling instead for watching him from her peripheral as he shook silently, his body turning toward the chair at her bedside. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, counting back from ten as he sat himself down beside her.

"Were you involved with the wizard Saruman in any manner?" His voice was calm once again, but Del knew better than to trust he'd returned to his senses.

"No. The only wizards I have seen are Gandalf and Radagast during their visits here." She hoped that this answer would be enough to appease him, she didn't think she could take another physical encounter.

"Do you have any knowledge of plots against my people?" His voice had taken on a harder quality and it sent chills down her spine.

"No." Her tone was not as submissive this time, taking on an edge that she knew would only get her into more trouble. He hadn't done any real damage yet, though his entire being was promising it in spades, perhaps he was more in control of himself than he was letting on.

"How did you come to be in this place?" The emotion had left his tone entirely now, leaving nothing but the cold regalness she'd come to associate with his "movie" persona.

"You already know how I got here. I fell asleep in the forest by my house in my world and I woke up here." She tried to keep the irritation from her voice, but she'd never been very good at hiding how she felt.

"That is the only time I will allow you to disrespect me in such a way. You did not answer my question. I did not ask the circumstances of your transport, I asked for the method." He stood, his body going almost abnormally still.

"I don't know how it happened." She took a breath, readying herself for another attack, only to have her blood run cold at the sound of a blade coming free of its sheath.

"I will ask one more time. How did you come to be in my realm human?" The cold steel pressed against her neck, causing her breath to hitch and her skin to jump, nicking against the blade in stinging stutters. She felt tears sting the backs of her eyelids as she slid them shut, preparing for the end. She'd been stupid to think that they were becoming something other than this. The whole situation was volatile and completely untenable, but she couldn't help feeling as if maybe she'd lost a friend somehow. "Answer me."

"I don't know."


	8. Out of The Frying Pan and Into The Oh My

A minute passed, and nothing happened. Del continued to draw breath and the room remained eerily silent. Thranduil's labored breathing was the only thing to break up the shrill ringing that always seemed to be in the ears when no other sound was present. It wasn't until his sword clattered to the floor that Del dared open her eyes.

He stood above her, eyes screwed shut in obvious pain, hands pressed to the sides of his head, mouth open in a silent scream. She felt a flash of sympathy for him before her own preservation instincts kicked in and forced her to stand, fleeing from the alcove as if her life depended on it. She felt the weakness of her limbs as she moved, and the only corner of her mind that wasn't taken up with survival had to grudgingly admit that the healers had been right.

She knew that she had to get away, she had no way of knowing which Thranduil would win the battle that was currently waging in his mind, and she didn't have the strength to fight him off, if the wrong one came out on top. But as she threw open the healing room doors, she realized just how out of options she was. Three guards stood there, keeping a restraining arm out, preventing the healers from entering the room. All three turned as if on cue, hands resting on swords, eyes devoid of emotion as they stared her down.

"Lady Del, you will return to the king." One of the guards stepped forward, a hand outstretched with the intent to get a hold of her. But she'd had enough of all of this. Her repressed anger and fear exploded out of her in one loud shout as she planted the heel of her foot in the guard's stomach, kicking out hard, sending the poor guy to the ground hard.

She didn't give anyone around her time to think, rushing through the gap that had been created and sprinting down the path at top speed. She'd never been overly athletic, preferring the library to the track, but she was not without training. Her father had always wanted a boy, though her mother had seemed incapable of having anything but girls, and had trained all four of his daughters in a great many different physical activities. Along with all the normal father/child activities, football, baseball, and the like, there had been self defense training, calisthenics, and even a little wrestling. She'd always assumed she'd never need it, outside the occasional sibling squabble, she'd always managed to talk her way out of any potential danger. But as the sounds of boots feet sounded behind her, she began to draw out every ounce of that knowledge.

First up, deter attackers. She'd already shown that she could get out of a tight corner, so hopefully they wouldn't try that angle again, but now she was out in the open halls, nothing but air between her and them, so it was time to switch tack.

She stopped dead in the middle of the path, feet planted firmly on the ground, breath coming in deep pulls even as her would be assailants came up behind her. The first one, the middle of the three, was foolish enough to try and simply grab her, earning a hard left elbow to the gut for his trouble. She felt the air as it whistled out of his body. His whole body, still carried by the momentum of his running pace, bent around her curved body, hanging on the sharp point of her elbow for a beat before he dropped to the floor, arms curled protectively around his middle.

Second up, stand her ground. She turned, her eyes losing all sign of fear as she squared up against the other two in the hall. One still had his gaze fixed on his wheezing comrade, big mistake. She danced out of the reach of the other, who had taken her stillness as a sign to attack, and launched at his unfortunately distracted partner. She wrapped her arms around his neck, using their height difference to her advantage, as well as her slightly more significant weight. She swung her body around him, hissing as the flare of his helmet sliced into her forearm, and planted her feet, causing his body to bow backward at the neck. He gagged for a moment before she cut off his wind pipe entirely, pulling him further back. She drew a breath and kicked at the back of one knee, knocking it from its socket with an audible pop that sent the second guard to the floor.

Now it was just her and the now clearly angry guard. She couldn't really blame him for being upset, she'd just injured people he'd probably known longer than she'd been alive. She tried to remember the rules on fighting angry, there was a way to exploit it, but she didn't have time to consider it as a large hand came toward her. She managed to duck out of the way, bringing the guard in close. Grappling had always been her strong point, she didn't have much inherent power to throw around, but she had always been incredibly flexible, so, as he reached for her again, she latched onto his arm, levering herself up off the ground, legs wrapping around his neck. The momentum of the motion, coupled with his initial lunge carried them both around in a complete flip, ending with him pinned between the ground her her leg. He struggled for a moment, fighting to get out of the combined grip strength of all four of her limbs, but his efforts grew weak as she squeezed her things around his neck. He stilled a second later, going limp.

Del groaned as she disentangled herself from the now unconscious guard. She checked his breathing, making sure his body had resumed the process on its own, and stood, pulling her shift straight again. She looked back down the hall and felt the blood drain from her face. Thranduil was there, standing in the doorway, face still screwed up in an expression of both pain and confusion. His sword was back in his hand and his eyes, what little of them she could see at this distance, were fixated on her.

She took a deep breath, flexing her bare toes on the stone and waited. If she bolted first, the he would have the advantage. She had to make him think that she was going to fight back, make him charge her, and then work around him as best she could. She knew the general lay out of the place now, she'd talked with enough of the healers to be able to recognize any landmarks when she saw them, but she had to get away from the healing wing first. Her eyes darted from left to right, trying to remember which way would take her to the garden she'd been in before. She knew she couldn't stay here anymore, Thranduil was clearly too unhinged to be considered safe, which meant getting over the walls, which meant the garden.

She was pulled from her surface thoughts as Thranduil darted down the hall toward her. She felt a grin spread involuntarily across her face. Some part of her had been waiting for this since the change had happened, and she was going to enjoy the little bit of revenge before she fled. She rose up onto her toes, sprinting toward him with a speed she'd gained from years of outrunning any fight she couldn't win. When she was about ten feet from him, she leapt, her body traveling in an almost perfect horizontal line, right arm locked out in a bar. As her arm met his neck, she encircled it and curled her body forward, arresting herself almost entirely.

The meeting of the two forces stopped both bodies cold. Del used this, and Thranduil's forward lean, to her advantage, pulling down hard with her arm, sending them both to the floor. Del took a nasty hit to her tailbone, but she smiled through the pain as she heard the king's head collide with the stone floor, rendering him unconscious. She slipped her arm out from under him, checking his breathing just as she had the guard, before setting off at a healthy clip down the right hallway, racing right past the stunned healers, who, after a moment, rushed out into the hall to tend to their fallen kin.

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Saruman knelt before the Palantir, his eyes wide as thousands of images poured into his mind. Sauron had shown him much in the short time the orb had been in his possession. He drew in a breath as the stream of images was halted, stopping on one particular face. It was the girl he'd brought from the other world.  
He hadn't understood at first, why Sauron would wish the woman here, her knowledge was dangerous, and the upset it would cause to the peoples of Middle Earth hardly seemed worth the enormous effort it had taken to pull her here. But as he watched her defeat Thranduil himself in less than a minute, he began to understand. She was unpredictable, this woman, and she was human, the most easily corrupted of the children of Eru. If she could be pulled to their side, made to be a servant or the One, she would be incredibly difficult to defeat.

There was knowledge in her as well, terrible knowledge of weapons and arms that none in this world had ever even dreamt possible. Fire that could be carried on the back and spread at will. Arrows, so small and quick, that they could not be seen, and yet powerful enough to break through even the strongest armor. He had seen much of her world while he had been tied to her, but the thing of the most interest to him was this "bomb". He had seen images of entire cities leveled, tens of thousands of casualties. If he could harness the power of this weapon, none would be able to oppose him, not even the mighty Sauron would be able to withstand its might.

He removed his hand from the Palantir, rising to his feet and throwing a cloth over the sphere. He knew the Dark Lord's powers extended beyond a simple item. He would take no risks yet.

"Go, find the woman, she has left the protection of the elves. Bring her to me alive and unharmed." He waved a hand imperiously, dismissing the two orcs that had been his eyes and ears in the world. He knew they were spies. Orcs served only one master, the protege of the one who had seen the first of them into creation. Sauron had sent them to him under the guise of friendship, but Saruman was not fooled. They were no doubt ordered to report on him to their true leader, and execute him, should he show any signs of betrayal. It was a wise move, one that Saruman himself would no doubt have done, but it posed a problem.

He intended to make this woman divulge all she knew of not only the future of this world, but the industrial workings of her own. Information was his power, attaining it, and using it to its most potent effect. But it was also something he guarded jealously. He would have to deal with his...assistants, before beginning his true work.

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Del swept around the corner into the garden and bounded for the tree she'd hidden in last time. She knew the jump was a long shot, especially with her body beginning to tire but she had to at least try. She scaled the branches quickly, her body already screaming from the exertion it had been made to endure. She forced herself through it, cresting the top of the low hanging branches and looking out, only to have her heart sink as she saw the far shore lined with elven guards. They had their bows drawn, arrows knocked and aimed, ready to fire should she attempt anything like what she'd been planning. She let out a quiet shout of frustration and jumped back to the garden floor, landing with a huff, straightening and coming face to chest with the one person she had been trying to escape this entire time.

Thranduil looked down at her, anger warring with something she couldn't quite place behind his eyes. He didn't speak, merely grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her after him as he marched from the garden. She felt her heart leap frog around her other organs in her chest, her mind swirling with all manner of possibilities. Where was he taking her? Why had he not simply killed her there, or told the archers to end her while she was up in the tree? How had he gotten to her so quickly? What was to become of her now? She felt her breathing beginning to speed up as scenarios played out in her mind, each more grim than the last. It wasn't until her arm was released, and she felt how light headed she'd become, that she realized what she'd been doing.

"Calm yourself. You will not die today. Rest." He pointed authoritatively at a chair, set against a pillar. It was at this moment that she realized where they were, the audience chamber. She felt her skin shiver at the memory of the last time she'd been here. Why was it that she always seemed to end up back at his mercy? She leaned into the chair, her body melting against the structured back and sides as oxygen rushed back to her brain. Her eyes slid closed as the world began to tilt, making her stomach roll.

"What have you been doing to the poor girl? She looks about ready to drop!" The familiar voice of Radagast calmed her almost instantly. Though he sounded different than when last they'd spoken, a wizard was always a good thing to have around in a tense situation.

"I have not been as I should be for quite some time. Del has suffered the consequences of that. While I am still of this mind, I would have you take her from me. She is no longer safe in my care and it would pain me if she were to come to harm." Thranduil's voice sounded strained, like he didn't want to be saying what he was saying, but couldn't stop himself.

Something in his tone made her look to him, pulling her full attention to his face, which was masked by his usual stoicism. But despite his best efforts, something was beginning to leak through, something that made her heart swell with an emotion she didn't dare put a name to.

"What if I don't want to go?" She tried to make herself sound sure and strong, but the pain was beginning to truly set it, and it broke through, causing her voice to waver.

"No child, that would be most inadvisable. Thranduil is right, it would be best to get you away from this place until this all calms down." Radagast walked toward her, hand outstretched to help her stand.

"But a cabin in the spider filled woods is safe?" She stood, her back straight as anger began to burn in her. She'd been pushed around by everyone she'd met since she got here, and it was going to stop. "Nowhere is safe, not in your world, not in mine. If I leave here, I could die on the road. I could get snatched up by spiders again. I could get shot by anything from a hunter with bad aim to an orc. I'm tired of running and hiding and being told what is and isn't safe. I want to stay here, and I'm going to, whether you like it or not." She turned her head to face the king at this last comment, eyes hard.

"You cannot possibly know what you mean. You are tired and weak. Let's return you to the healing rooms and we'll discuss it more after." Radagast inched forward as he spoke, arm still outstretched. Del turned to face him and placed a hand on his chest, shoving back gently, she was angry, but she knew better than to literally push a wizard.

"Would you say the same of a man in my position? Look, I know how you view women in this world but where I come from, women are treated the same as men, mostly. Just because I have breasts, doesn't mean I have to be taken care of. It doesn't mean that I'm meak and stupid and don't know how to take care of myself. If you don't believe me, ask him how he got that knot on his head. I started this whole mess, I put you all out of sorts with yourselves and I'm not just gonna run away while the world goes to shit around me because I might get hurt. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself." She took a determined step back toward the throne and the visibly shocked elven king. The air hung in tense silence for a moment before Radagast's face spread into a smile.

"Very well. If that is your decision, then I wish you luck child." He turned to Thranduil and his expression turned dangerously stony. "As for you, I would have a word or two. Now." He didn't wait for a reply, stalking past the throne with a determined air.

"Del, while I am grateful for your loyalty, I must question this decision. After all that has happened, you cannot be allowed to remain here. You are not safe." Thranduil stepped down from where he'd stood before his throne and leveled a troubled gaze on her.

"Did you hear none of what I just said. I don't want to be safe, I want to be here. It's the only home I've known since I got here and yeah, okay, it's not secure one hundred percent of the time, but that's my fault and I know I can fix it. Besides, I like it here, I like the gardens and the halls and the...people." She smiled up at him, feeling her body start to sag. "Uh oh." She felt herself start to tilt sideways as blackness closed around her vision. She felt strong arms lift her as her world began to fade away and couldn't keep the small smile from her face. She had to be crazy.

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Thranduil returned the woman to the healing room, ordering a protection detail on her at all times. These members were selected from his very best warriors and were to act in the best of the best interest of the woman, regardless of any order he or anyone else may give. It was the best he could do to keep her safe while he was still battling his alternate self. He nodded to the healers as he left the room, quickening his steps toward his own rooms. He'd already kept the wizard waiting and, while Radagast was known to be the most patient of the bunch, he didn't wish to press his luck. 

A wizard is a frightful thing once angered. He strode quickly through the doors or the antechamber, diverting to the office that was just to the right and found the wizard already seated, staff set off to his left. Thranduil did not acknowledge him at first, taking a moment to seat himself at the desk and get comfortable before nodding to the obviously unsettled Istari. It was a little rude, perhaps, but he'd had his pride wounded enough for one day and felt like getting at least a little pay back in the face of what was sure to be a truly scalding lecture.

"I will be plain. You have failed in your duty. Your father would be ashamed to see the mess you've made of things, and I am honestly considering removing her from your lands whether she wishes it or not. What has happened here? In barely a month, you have managed to abuse her to the point of exhaustion?" Radagast stood, hand gripping his staff tightly. "What could this woman have possibly done to warrant such treatment?" He turned, his eyes piercing into the elf king's own guilty orbs.

"She has done nothing beyond what is expected of a woman in her position. The fault is mine. I admit that. You would be right to take her from me. I know and believe these things, as I am now. But there is another mind within my own, another of myself that is vastly different. He is full of hatred and anger for all that he has lost and endured. I cannot control when he will manifest or what he will do once he has risen to the surface. I can see what it does to her, and for a short time, he seemed to be gone. But after the ritual, he returned, much more powerful than before. Even now, I can feel him, digging in the corner of my mind, shouting to be released. Del said it was something called a double personality, and that he is from a "movie" that tells the same tale as her book. I do not know how to keep him at bay. I have tried all I know to seal him away, but he returns at random." Thranduil hadn't meant to divulge so much, but looking into the eyes of the kind wizard, watching the sympathy grow on his face, had acted as a break in the dam and he'd been unable to stop himself.

He'd been learning much of his own mind over the last month, learning of emotions he thought long dead. Del had done more damage than she knew to the balance of his world when she fell into it, and now he was left with the pieces that seemed to scatter every time he'd managed to make them make sense. He felt something for her, something more than just protection. Seeing her smile made him happy. Seeing her in pain made his heart ache. He wanted her near him always and it was terrifying.

He had heard tales of elves who had been unfortunate enough to care for a human in this way. Their short years and fleeting life were like a flower, beautiful, but finite. No matter what he did, she would one day die. She would age, she would ail, and she would die. He could not allow himself to fall victim to that. He had lost one love already, his queen, stolen from him by the very evil that now threatened the borders of his land. It had nearly killed him, he'd longed to fade as other had. His son had been his saving grace, the one point of light in the darkness he'd been walking for centuries. But now his son was grown, ready, at a moment's notice, to take his seat of power and lead his people. There would be no one left to hold him here if he lost another.

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Del came to wakefulness slowly, her body had been pushed to its limits in her little escape attempt and she could feel every single complaint it had to give. She drew in a breath slowly, the motion halting at every muscle ache it caused. She let out a quiet groan and tried to stretch, gasping as pain lanced through her again.

"You mustn't try to move just yet, you've been badly injured." One of the healers rushed over to her, stilling any further movement.

"No I haven't. I mean, I know my arm got cut, but otherwise I'm fine...I think." She looked up at the healer, confusion clear on her face.

"You have several broken bones as well as numerous joint sprains. Though I admit your fighting was impressive, it did nearly as much damage to you as it did to them." She leveled a stern look at the woman in the bed and pulled the blankets smooth around her. She pressed a glass of some strange smelling liquid against her lips and Del drank dutifully from it, swallowing down the bitter mixture with little trouble.

"How long am I stuck in here for this time?" She asked, watching the healer replace the supplies she'd been using.

"You should be well enough to move within the week, though that is dependent upon if you stay where you are this time." She grinned, giving a small bow before sweeping away about her business.

Del laid back on the pillow, her eyes sliding out of focus as her thoughts turned inward. She hadn't been lying when she said she wanted to stay, but the why was still a mystery to her. It was something about this place and its people that just fascinated her. Thranduil was fun to be around, when he wasn't crazy, and the other elves seemed like really nice people, if she could ever get the time to get to know them.

As she thought of time, she felt her heart flop uncomfortably in her chest. She'd grown used to wondering how long she'd have to be here before she got to go home. But now she was looking at the rest of her life. There was no going home for her, not anymore. She tried to think of all the adventures she could go on, like Bilbo, but instead, all the could think of was all the things that she would never do again. All the music she liked to listen to was lost to her now, all her books. the novel she'd left unfinished on her computer, all the other electronics and gadgets that she'd grown used to using in her every day life, all gone. But the thing that hurt the most, the thing that had tears coursing silently down her cheeks, was the fact that she'd never see her family again.

The image of her mother, holding her hand, crying at her bedside, rose unbidden into her mind, causing her to draw a shuddering breath. Had that been real? Was that the reality in her world? Was she lying in a hospital bed, tube in her throat, lifeless and still while her mother silently prayed for her return? The thought of it caused a pain in her chest that was almost physical. She couldn't bare the thought of her family suffering in that hellish purgatory, forever waiting for her to wake.

Another thought came to her, as she attempted to drive the images from her mind. What if, in coming fully into this world, she'd left her other one behind completely? Was she dead, in her own world? Was her body burned to ash, scattered on the wind, locked in some cement lined hole in the earth? She'd never written out a will, never talked about burial with her family, it had always seemed like such a depressing thought. Would they have known that she'd want a natural burial? Would they have been able to deal with that reality?

She gasped in a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding, a choked sob curling her body in on itself as tears ran in streams down her face. She felt like her control was slipping. She was losing her grip on reality, whatever that meant anymore, and panic was rising along with the soul crushing sadness of being utterly alone in a strange world. Her eyes darted back and forth across the room, searching for something, anything familiar to ground herself in, but all she saw were elves, carved stone walls, hanging flowers and candles as the only light. 

Her breathing became frantic as she became truly aware of her situation. One of the healers came to her, speaking to her in a language she didn't understand, holding a mug of something she didn't know and it all became too much for her. She slid from the bed, curling up in the corner of the alcove, arms wrapped around herself in a vain attempt to keep herself from simply flying apart. Voices were sounding in the distance, someplace she couldn't get to at the moment, and it wasn't until a familiar pair of bright blue eyes came into her vision that she was able to move. She launched herself into his arms, letting loose all the pain and anger she'd been holding in since she first woke up in the land and he held her, a quiet rock in the sea of her pain.

"It's gone! It's all gone!" She screamed, she didn't know why but it felt good to just shriek at the world, to get it out of her body and into the air.

It took hours for her to finally come back to herself. She sagged in his arms, her breathing coming in short gasps as her body, still incredibly pained, attempted to accommodate her emotions. She felt dizzy, weak and exhausted and as she looked up at him, she felt a small flicker of peace begin to radiate the black cavity that had been her heart. She felt something pop into place in her mind and she leaned into him further, hugging him close as he helped her back into bed. As he moved away, she pulled him down into the barest hint of a kiss. Her lips ghosted over his, afraid to trust the urge, afraid she was wrong about all of this. But as she began to lean away, a hand came to rest of the back of her neck, holding her in place as his lips pressed more firmly against her, leaving a searing print that set her heart to racing.

There was silence in the healing room for a moment as everyone present struggled to understand what was happening. It wasn't until one of the healers cleared her throat rather pointedly, that the rest of the room seemed to breathe again.

"My lord, I do not wish to intrude, but the young woman needs her rest now." She turned her gaze to the room, an aura of authority radiating from her and sending everyone back to whatever it is they'd been doing, or not doing, before any of this happened.

Thranduil leaned away from her, lowering her head gently to the pillow, a strange expression on his face. Del couldn't help but smile as her heart began to return to a normal rhythm. She felt better than she had in weeks. Something in this crazy world was starting to make sense to her and she felt hope blossom in her chest as the barest hint of a smile flickered across the face of the king.

"Rest Del, we have much to discuss you and I." He ran a finger softly down her cheek as he stepped away, turning and walking imperiously from the room, his posture daring anyone to say a word about what had just happened.

Del let a soft laugh pass her lips as her mind whirled. Gone were the thoughts of grief and loss, replaced with possibility and, something that should probably be left private, for now.


	9. Time and Time and Time Again

"My lady, I must insist that you return to your bed. You are not fully healed yet." The elleth was walking along beside her, arms out like a worried mother, ready to catch her if she should fall.

"I appreciate your concern Nimaya, but I am quite alright. See?" Del smiled and turned a little cartwheel in the hallway, laughing at the shock on the healer's face.

"I will never understand you human." She sighed, smiling good naturedly back. "But I still must insist you return to your bed." She hooked Del's arm through her own, pulling her gently back toward the healing rooms.

"Oh very well. But only because you're being so nice about it." She sighed, hating to admit that the elleth may have been right. She was beginning to feel light headed from all the time on her feet, and her muscles were registering their discontent rather loudly. "If I pass out again, don't tell him, I'm not feeling up to another lecture quite yet." She looked up at her friend and laughed softly, sucking in a breath as pain lanced through her torso.

It had been two months since the wizards had tied her to this plane, ripping her away from her home to save her life and making her a permanent resident of Middle Earth. The process had been very damaging to her body, especially around the chest and torso. She still had moderate bruising around her ribcage from the force of the magic that had passed through her, and while she was much more ambulatory that she'd been at the beginning of all this madness, she was nowhere near ready to be on her own yet.

She fell softly into her bed, groaning as her arms and legs worked to position her properly in the now familiar covers. The healing rooms were lovely, with large windows all along the ceiling that let in light and crisp winter air when the rooms got too warm. The walls were the same shaped stone, but they seemed warmer somehow in here. It was a quiet place, meant for healing and rest and peace, which is exactly why it was driving Del slowly insane to be stuck in them. She loved a good spot of quiet reflection, just some time away from everything that allowed her to empty her mind and just relax, but she was just about as relaxed as she was ever going to get, and she was in desperate need of stimulus.

"How much longer do you think I'll have to be here?" She looked up at Nimaya, the elleth who'd been her primary healer since her little spot of trouble with the king.

"As long as it takes for your body to heal. Which will happen faster if you allow yourself to rest properly." She sighed, a long suffering look on her face. It was a justified reaction, Del had been asking the same question for about a week.

"Well that's easy for you to say, you're an elf, and you're from this world. You're used to not having anything to occupy yourself with. Where I come from, we have entertainment everywhere. Books, movies, music, tv shows, computers, phones, all the with the capability to entertain someone at a moment's notice. I don't know how to rest in your world. My mind rebels at the stagnation of simply sitting and doing nothing." She flopped back into the pillows, regretting it instantly as her abdomen began to ache from the motion.

"Del, you are by far the most difficult person I have ever helped. What else can I do to alleviate your boredom? I have allowed you to take walks in the halls outside. I have allowed you to help with the wrapping and drying of herbs. I have allowed you to continue your language lessons with Tauriel. Short of simply letting you leave here, which will not be happening, I do not know what else there is for you to do." She turned, a tall glass in her hand and smiled as Del pulled a face.

"That time again eh? Do I have to?" She leaned away from the glass as it was moved toward her.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Nimaya grinned, nodding as Del took the glass, swallowing down the contents in record time.

"That is foul!" Del groaned, her body shuddering as she felt the thick liquid slide down her throat.

"It may taste terrible, but it will work wonders. Now lay back and rest. I added a little something to help you sleep." She smiled, helping the already drowsy human lay back fully in the bed.

"Sneaky sneaky." Del wagged a finger drunkenly at the elleth as her eyes began to drift closed, the satisfied smile of her friend sending her off to a dreamless sleep.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Del looked around the large room, her eyes searching every corner for any sign of an elf. She was finally beginning to feel more like herself again, both mentally and physically, and had decided that her stay in the healing rooms was over. She'd tried many times over the past few days to get Nimaya to let her leave, but the elleth was more stubborn than she looked and had simply taken to slipping something in her daily medicine that would knock her out all through the night, but what the elf didn't know, was that Del had taken to tracking the movements of all the healers and had found a window where no one was around.

Del slid from the bed, satisfied that she wouldn't be spotted, and made her way quietly to the other end of the room. The door was her first real challenge, as it was heavy and sometimes got a little stuck in the frame. She closed her eyes and pulled gently, smiling when the wood slid soundlessly from the frame and swung slowly open. She slipped through the crack and closed it just as quietly, turning to face the hallway.

For once, her plan seemed to be going off without a hitch, the hall was empty of everyone except the two elves that had been assigned to watch her, in the case of another insane king moment, and they both nodded as she stepped between them. She'd managed to get them to understand her plan, passing it through the broken bits of Sindarin that she actually remembered, and the smiles she'd received let her know that they were on board.  
They fell into silent step beside her, one walking slightly ahead acting as both guide and look out as they made their way back to her old rooms. She knew that would be the first place anyone would look for her, where else could she go, but she didn't have the capacity to care about it at the moment. She just needed to see something other than those walls and windows for a change.

They made it to her rooms without incident and found the doors already unlocked. It struck her as a bit odd that the door would be open, but chalked it up to good luck. She pushed the door open to reveal a completely ransacked room. Someone had gone through everything, tearing apart furniture and cloth with the kind of savagery you would expect from a wild animal.

"Did the king do this?" She asked, turning to her guards, hoping against hope that they would understand what she was trying to say. The subtle shaking of their heads let her know they had and she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Someone had come into her rooms. But why? It would appear that they'd been looking for something, but what could she possibly have that would be of any value to anyone? She wasn't even from this world, and nothing from her world had made it through with her except her book.

The thought sent a bolt of fear through her body, rooting her to the spot as her eyes traveled over every inch of the room she could see. It wasn't there. She pushed into the room, ignoring the warning hand on her shoulder and began to search through the debris, piling everything into a mound as she worked her way, systematically, through the room. She lifted every piece of furniture, every strip of loose fabric, every furrow carved out of the feather mattress, but it wasn't there.

She felt the color drain from her face as the realization hit her. Out there, somewhere, someone had her book. Someone had the perfect blueprint to everything that had happened, and would happen. Even accounting for the changes, from what she'd seen, the events that were told in the book still unfolded in a very similar way. Someone with that book would know exactly how to avoid them, or change them. They would know about the battle of five armies. They would know about the Arkenstone. They would know about the ring.

She gasped as the thought entered her mind. What if the person who found the book had been one of Sauron's orcs? The book detailed exactly where and when Bilbo found his little ring, and exactly what it did. To the untrained eye, it would just appear to be a minor magic ring, but to the right person, or angel as it were, it would be a beacon.

"I have to see the king! Immediately!" She stood, rushing over to the guards who remained motionless. She made to move past them only to have their bodies fall limply backward. Blood began to pool around them as they lolled lifelessly to the side, revealing wicked little daggers embedded in the backs of their necks. Behind them, grinning stupidly, was a single orc, a third dagger in hand, beady eyes fixed on her pale face.

"You come with me now." He gestured, his voice guttural and low. "Have orders, won't hurt ya." He stepped forward, leering at her body, more revealed that she would like in the thin muslin. She looked around in her peripheral, needing something to use as a weapon. Her gaze landed on the pile of furniture debris, just to her right, within reach. She took a deep breath and feigned falling, bowing her body to the left as she reached out to her right, grabbing a chair leg and landing a solid hit against the things head as it lunged to catch her.

It stumbled away, dazed and out of sorts as she bolted out of the room and down the hall, screaming as loud as she possibly could. The sound of slapping feet behind her told she was moments from death. She could hear the creature muttering softly in the gap between her screams and knew that, orders or not, she was not going to make it out of this unharmed. Her screams echoed off the halls and ceiling, bouncing down every corridor and into every room, alerting everyone to her plight, and she could only hope that someone would arrive before that dagger found its mark, and, for once, someone did.

Thranduil appeared in a doorway dead ahead, expression moving from panicked to angry to murderous in the span of a second as he took in what he was seeing. He pulled out a sword, seemingly from nowhere, and set off at a run down the hall. Del watched as he raised the weapon and stopped, his eyes catching hers in an unspoken line of communication. She would lead the thing to him, and he would strike before it even realized he was there. It was a good plan, with the exception that it was faster than she was.

Her screams changed from panicked to pained as the thing's dagger sunk into her calf, hobbling her and stopping her running almost instantly. She didn't stop moving, she knew better than to simply lay down and give up, she would be beaten and probably dead before Thranduil could clear the rest of the hallway, but she was severely slowed, reduced from a sprint to a limp. She braced herself for the creature to lunge, feeling the air move around it as it leapt, and tried to use the motion to her advantage. She tucked her body into a ball, rolling forward just as the creature hit her back. It carried them half over, landing her on top of the creature, but it managed to get its arms around her in a bear hug before she could move away, and it began to squeeze.

"Del!" Tauriel's voice was sharp and clear in the near silent struggle and Del just managed to get her head out of the way as the elleth came down in a vertical strike, her sword burying itself in the creature's head barely an inch from Del's right ear. The creature spasmed, its arms locking tighter around Del's chest, driving what little breath she had from her in a pained cough. She struggled against the grip, trying ever trick she knew to break its hold, but even as she and Tauriel both pulled and twisted, the creature's hands refused to part. "Del, stay very still." Tauriel stood, sword whistling through the air as it severed both arms at the elbow.

Del pushed them away, rolling to the side, dragging in deep breaths of air as her head swam and her world turned. She couldn't help the ragged coughs that shook her every time she drew in air, her body had been compressed, and it had to right itself before it could resume normal function. She was just happy she'd skipped lunch as her stomach began to roll. That thing's stench was all over her now, as was its blood, and as she looked over at it, images of the two guards flashed through her mind and she gagged.

She'd had enough of this. Since her arrival, she'd been battered, bruised, attacked too many times to count and had spent more of her time unconscious than awake. It was beginning to border on the ridiculous at this point, and she was one bad thing away from simply throwing herself off one of the many high walkways in this gods forsaken cavern.

Her thought spiral was interrupted by two strong hands, pulling her gently to her feet. She didn't have the heart to look up at him as he bore her weight, allowing her limp slowly back to his own chambers. Behind them, Tauriel barked orders to the other guards who were just now arriving, no doubt ordering a clean up and an investigation. Part of her wanted to stay and help, but as she set her leg down to turn, fiery pain shot up her leg and the hold on her tightened, both in support and warning.

"You will stay with me for the remainder of your convalescence, as you seem incapable of avoiding danger." His tone was soft, but the underlying message was clear. She remained wisely silent as they passed through the doors of his rooms. "I need you to lean against the door with you injured leg out behind you, as straight as you can make it." He helped her turn and placed her hands on the wood. She drew in a shaky breath, the whole situation seeming far too intimate for what they'd just been through. Her skin tingled as his fingers traced the undamaged skin, his fingers following the outline of the mermaid she had tattooed on her calf.

His voice floated softly up to her, whispering a strange melody she'd never heard before. It seemed to deaden the pain, or distract her from it, she wasn't sure which, but it was broken as the knife was wrenched from her leg, causing her to buckle to the floor. She let out a colorful string of swear words as her body curled in on itself, trying to get away from the pain.

Strong hands gripped her leg, holding it still as another pain began. This one was different, it burned, but her body didn't seem to recoil from it as much. It only lasted for a moment as whatever he'd just applied to the wound began to numb it. Just as the numbness was beginning to spread, a strange pressure took over, drawing her eye down to the leg in question, just in time to see a needle pass through her skin.

She felt another wave of sickness roll over her as blood began to seep into her nightgown, turning the soft muslin uncomfortably wet on the parts of her leg that still had feeling. She turned her face quickly away, becoming fascinated by the grain of the wooden floor, her mind calling up obscure Tolkien trivia and old mathematics facts that she hadn't thought about in years, anything to try and keep her mind from what was currently happening to her leg.

An uncomfortable tightening in her leg let her know when he was finished, and she couldn't help the breath of relief that escaped her. Despite having several large tattoos, Del had never been overly fond of needles, or medicine in general really, preferring to simply treat herself at home and wait to see if it cleared up or healed on its own before going to get help. She'd ended up in a great deal of trouble that way more than once.

"Are you alright?" His voice was as soft as his hand as it swept a cloth over her leg, cleaning it of the blood that had stained it.

"I'll let you know when my mind catches up to everything that has happened." She tried to laugh, groaning as her already abused torso registered its unhappiness.

"Come, we must get you clean." His arms circled her again, pulling her up against his chest, one large hand splayed across her back to keep her in place as his other arm swept under her knees, lifting her from the floor in one effortless motion. This would usually be the point in the conversation where she would quip something back at him and then the flirting would commence. It had become something of a routine with them while she'd been stuck in the healing room, but for some reason, her mind simply wouldn't work this time. All she could manage was a soft laugh as her eyes trailed over every detail of his face that she could find.

As if he could sense her thoughts, his eyes turned down, catching her in an intense stare that set her heart to racing. She took a stuttering breath, her skin beginning to heat as his lips curled up into a soft smirk. He moved carefully through the door into the large bathroom and set her down gently on a bench beside the tub.

"Remain here, I will return in a moment." His smile stayed in place as he left the room and for some reason, just the way he was moving was doing things to her that no one had done in quite some time.

She took the opportunity, while he was gone, to take a few calming breaths. She'd been through a startling amount in the past few minutes and it was all beginning to rush to her head. She decided to start with the obvious, which was the missing book and the planned attack. The orc said he'd had orders and that he wasn't allowed to hurt her. But who had given those orders? Was it Sauron? That seemed a bit premature on his part. Surely a literal celestial being would be able to understand the writing in her book and wouldn't need her for any kind of context or translation.

As far as she knew, he was the only one who could command orcs, at least currently. Saruman would be able to later, what with Sauron giving him the palantir and the orc soldiers to help take down Rohan, but that didn't happen for another few years. She drew as a deep a breath as she was able and tried to remember the time line of Saruman's rise to power. It was never really explained in any of the books how he came to have the amount of resources that he did, just the Sauron helped him through use of the palantir and orc troups, so it was entirely possible that the orc had been sent by Saruman. But what for?

"You're thinking too much." The deep voice drew her from her thoughts and she was greeted with the scent of flowery oils and steam. She'd somehow managed to check out through the entirety of the bath being drawn and had to reorient herself to where she was and what she was trying to do.

"Sorry, been a bit of a busy day." She grinned, watching him walk over to her and kneel. As he moved, she noticed he was wearing considerably less than she was used to seeing him in. His top half was clothed in just a loose muslin shirt and sash with nothing but doe skin leggings underneath it. His eyes pinned her in place when she finally reached them. They were sharp and bright with promise, even as his hands wound bandages around her wound, his eyes promised all manner of things that had her breath shortening.

"Are you well?" His lips quirked up into that smirk again and she felt her heart skip a beat. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, well, two could play that game.

"I'm alright, it's just a little warm in here." She leaned back, crossing her uninjured leg over the opposite thigh, her nightgown riding up her leg as she moved, and leaned her body back against the back of the bench. The motion caused the loose tie at the front of the gown to gap out, revealing patches of pale flesh lined with dark ink. She drew in a deep breath, causing the fabric to gap out further and show just the barest curve of her breast, before letting it out in a contented sigh.

"Perhaps my lady would be more comfortable in the water." His voice seemed to rumble straight out of his chest, cloth whispering over skin as he moved to lean over her. She opened her eyes, a grin still on her face.

"Will my lord be staying in the room?" She saw the flicker of shock pass over his face at her boldness and felt heat begin to pool in her belly. Her smirk slid into a full blown grin as she sat slowly forward, being careful not to do anything that would cause pain, and ruin the moment. "I don't think I'd be able to do...everything, on my own is all." She heard his breath catch as she moved her leg, brushing lightly against the growing tent in his leggings.

"If you do that again, I will cease to control myself, my lady." He growled, his body moving closer.

"Who said you have to control yourself, my lord." She slowly raised one eyebrow in challenge, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. As if on cue, Thranduil swept her into his arms, pressing his lips to hers in a fiery kiss that had her toes curling. They struggled to remain locked together as clothing was shed, ending up naked and leaning against the tub, completely out of breath.

"Who are you?" He whispered, his head resting against hers.

"I'm just a girl." She replied, running one finger down his spine. "So, join me?" She asked, her tone conversational.

"Join you?" He looked up, honest confusion plain on his face.

"In the bath. People do it all the time in my world." She lifted herself over the lip of the tub, careful to keep her injured leg out of the water, and lowered herself down, leaving a sizable gap for him if he chose to use it. He stood shocked for a moment, apparently no one had ever been this forward with him before. "You don't have to, it was just a simple offer." She smiled, trying to ease the apparent distress she'd caused.

"A bath sounds nice." He said, stepping carefully in behind her. She took a moment to show him the proper way to sit before settling back against his chest with a contented sigh. The contact seemed to surprise him as he flinched away from her for a moment before settling back against the edge of the tub, though he still seemed unsure about exactly what to do with his arms. Del sighed, reaching out and grabbing both arms, draping them across her shoulders and chest.

"We've been getting to know each other a lot recently, and you just saved my life, it's okay to touch me." She settled back against his chest again and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of being warm and safe.

"Elves do not engage in these kinds of behaviors. I am unfamiliar with the customs of your world." He sounded almost embarrassed and it dawned on her that this may really be his first time doing any of this. She turned slowly in the water, careful on any body parts and looked up at him. He looked as calm as usual, but that didn't really mean anything with Thranduil, he was the king of stoicism when he wanted to be.

"Humans call it cuddling, or, at least they do where I'm from, and it's a way to have intimacy without actual sex. It makes us feel good to be held like you were holding me, it makes us feel safe. Bathtubs are a great place for it because they're already so relaxing. Does that make sense?" She smiled up at him as she saw him relax a little.

"Yes. My people are not so free with their bodies. Nudity is reserved for only one thing." He grinned and she felt something brush against her arm under the water.

"Well bathtub snuggling does usually lead to...other things." She grinned, running a hand up his thigh, only to have him grab her wrist before she could get to the fun part.

"Wait. There is something you should know about my people." He moved her hand away and pulled her around to face him, submersing her leg and causing her to hiss as the hot water soaked through the bandages. He stopped immediately and looked down at her leg, no doubt checking for blood in the water.

"It's alright, it just stings a little, raw skin and all that. Go ahead, you were going to tell me something?" She sat back on her legs, leaning on the uninjured one to avoid another mood breaking moment.

"From what I have observed of your people, you are much more...free, with yourselves than we are. You take more than one mate in your lifetime. We do not. Once an elf chooses a mate, they are wed for life. It is the tradition of the high elves, my kin, to never be with another, even after their mate is dead or has moved on from this place. We wood elves are not the same. If we lose a mate, we may select another, but there has never been a pairing like ours within my peoples history. You are a human, I am an elf. You will grow old and die while I remain as I am now. I have lost one love already to this world, I fear to lose another." He released her hand pulling her to his chest in a tight grip. All she could do was let herself be held as his words raced through her mind.

She had no idea that elves mated for life, though now that she stopped to think about it, it made sense. Galadriel was only ever seen with Celeborn, Elrond raised his sons alone after his wife went off to Valinor and she'd never once heard a tale of elves that had more than one partner in life. She'd managed to miss it amongst all the other details, but now his reticence made more sense to her. She drew in a deep breath and pushed away from him.

"Well, I guess that means I should get out huh? I'm pretty much clean and you can go ahead and get yourself in order." She tried to smile, but it felt like her face was weighed down by how bad she felt. She'd just been beginning to maybe love this guy, and now that wasn't possible. She rested her weight on her good leg, preparing to get out of the water when she was pulled forward again, gasp stolen by searching lips and eager tongue. The kiss only lasted a moment, but it felt like every nerve she had was on fire.

"I did not say that I would not have you." He growled, pulling her in for another kiss. She let herself fall into it, small moans echoing around the stone walls of the room as she pulled her body forward, settling her legs on either side of his hips. She broke the kiss just long enough to give him a questioning glance. She had to have a solid answer from him before they went any further. He barely managed to nod before pulling her back in for another toe curling kiss. She sank slowly down onto him, feeling herself stretch in a way that hadn't happened in years. It felt so deliciously good that she slowed down, wanting to savor it as much as possible before it was replaced with the hard thrusting she'd become accustomed to from the males of her own species.

As soon as she was seated, something in Thranduil changed. Gone was the stoic face she'd come to know, now she was faced with a much more aggressive side of the elf king. He took her hips in his hands and began to move, slowly and deliberately, hitting every spot she had. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. All she could do was brace herself on his shoulders and try to keep up with the rhythm he was setting.

Time lost all meaning as they moved, fire building in her belly like a spring, tension winding tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending her into wave after wave of spine bending pleasure. But even as she floated down from her high, he wasn't finished. Just as she was ready to snuggle again, her hoisted her up out of the tub and over the edge, resting her on the cold stone floor. He joined her a moment later, soaking the floor in warm water.

"Is this hurting you?" He asked, already on top of her and poised to go again. She couldn't speak as her afterglow got chased off by even more desire so she settled for simply shaking her head and hooking one leg over his hips, urging him forward. He gave one little smile before his hips snapped forward and he was buried in her again. Last time had been slow and sensual, all about her pleasure, but now, this was entirely different.

He set a truly punishing pace, his arms holding her in place as he pistoned back and forth inside her. Her mind reeling as it was overloaded with pure, physical satisfaction and all she could do was hold onto him as her body rocked against the cold stone floor. She was dimly aware of loud moaning, and, had she known it was coming from her, she may have been a bit embarrassed, but as her world came apart around her once again, all she could think was how she'd never had it like this before.

As her second climax began to wane, he seemed to hit his stride. One arm left her hips and came to rest on her shoulder, pressing her down into the floor as the other hand slid down her stomach and thigh, hooking one leg around his arm. The position it pulled her into had her screaming inside of five seconds. His pace quickened to an almost impossible speed as he reached his own climax, taking her over the edge with him.

He all but collapsed on top of her as he began to come down, his head resting in the crook of her neck, hand still resting lightly on her shoulder while the other stroked the outside of her thigh. She purred happily at the contact, floating in a hazy afterglow that was unlike anything she'd had before.

"That was amazing." She sighed, one hand coming up to play with his hair. He didn't seem inclined to speak so she simply smiled and continued to stroke his hair, content with her life for the first time in a long time. But, like with all good things, it came to an abrupt end by means of an elf guard busting into the room to deliver urgent news about a dragon.


	10. Coming Together

Del rested in the bed, dressed in a simple shift and covered in several blankets. She'd been given some relief for her leg as well as explicit instructions to stay put by a very irritated elven king and then left alone. She knew she should be resting, it couldn't be long till they set out, but she couldn't quiet her mind. Her book was gone, out in the world somewhere, most likely in the hands of someone who could do some real harm with it. She should be out there looking for it, not laid up in yet another bed, healing from yet another wound.

She sighed, laying back against the pillows and allowing her eyes to wander around the room. It really was a beautiful room, all dark woods and cream tones, accents of red and gold making everything seem to shimmer, but it was just another confined space she wasn't allowed to leave. His office was just out that door, it would be so easy to just walk out, except she knew he would be on the other side, and she didn't feel up to a fight right now. She shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable, despite the fact that she knew the discomfort wasn't physical, though it did cause her a small amount of pain to move her leg.  
She'd just come to the decision to get up, elf king be damned, when the door opened. She expected the king to come in, perhaps for another round of complaining, but was greeted instead with the face of the prince. He seemed nervous, like he'd been given a task he didn't quite know how to do, and while it was a cute look on him, it didn't bode well for her situation.

"I have be instructed to deliver news to you that you may find hard to hear. My father has warned me of your...temper, and I would appreciate it if you would save your ire for him as I had no part in the decision." He looked at her, awaiting her answer.

"Well I can't promise I won't act upset, but I won't yell directly at you if that makes you feel any better." She said, waiting to see if that answer would be sufficient. He nodded, taking a breath.

"My father has decided that you will remain in the kingdom while he goes to aid the men of Esgaroth." He said, again waiting to see her response.

"He what?! That son of a...I need to speak to the king, Now." She said, leveling her best angry stare at the elf.

"He is in a war meeting and will not be done for quite some time." Legolas said. "I will pass on that you wish to see him, but I make no promises." He said, turning and walking quickly from the room, a frustrated shout following him out. The door had no sooner closed than it was opened again, this time by the red headed elf she'd come to call friend.

"Del are you alright?" She asked, coming to the side of the bed quickly.

"He has you guarding me? What does he think I'm gonna do, run away?" She asked, her voice getting shrill in her anger.

"I am here to ensure you are not attacked again. Why did you shout?" Tauriel asked, looking over her small friend.

"I have just been told that I'm stuck here while you guys go off to be big damn heroes. How the hell am I supposed to protect myself from an entire kingdom's worth of threats? I mean I know none of the elves will hurt me, but what if more orcs get in?" She all but shouted, unable to keep her anger in check.

"Del, calm yourself. I understand why you are upset, but we cannot have an injured, unarmed, untrained human traveling in our compliment, particularly one who is already marked for capture." Tauriel leaned over, placing a soothing hand on her arm.

"I understand that, I figure that is why he made the decision he did, but am I any safer here? I mean he could leave guards behind to stay with me all the time, but then what's the point? If I'm gonna be surrounded by armed elves all the time anyway, I might as well be with him." She heard the words coming out of her mouth and wished she could shove them back in. She hated how weak she seemed.

"You only feel safe with him, I know, but that is not what is best for his people, and so he cannot allow it to sway his judgment." Tauriel said, her heart going out to the poor girl in the bed.

"It's not just that. I get feelings about things sometimes, it's random, but I'm never wrong and I know that if I stay here, something bad is going to happen to me. I don't know what, or why, but something is going to happen and I won't be able to stop it." She could feel the fear rising, and she tried to push it down, but recent events began to lend credence to her fear.

"Del, you must calm yourself. You have been through so much in such a short time that fear is natural, but you are safe here. I will speak to the king and let him know of your reservations, but for now, you must be calm." She said, smoothing back errant waves of hair. She waited a moment for a response, but when none came, she smiled and nodded, taking it to mean that Del had heeded her words and took her leave, closing the door softly behind her.

She waited a few more minutes before pushing back the covers and slipping out of the bed, hissing as pain bloomed in her injured leg. She balanced against the bed for a minute, keeping leg raised and tried out different ways of limping before she found one that didn't hurt quite as much as the others. Smiling, she made her way slowly to the door and pulled it open, revealing the darker atmosphere of the office, lit only by the fire in the hearth and a single lamp on a small table. It was warm and made her want to curl up in one of the high backed chairs with a book and forget the world for a while, but a book was exactly why she had to press on.

She pulled open the large door and stepped out into the hallway, scanning for guards or healers that might be instructed to keep her in place, but found her coast clear. She had learned the main complex fairly well, given the many times she'd had to run through the passages, so it was no trouble to find her way to the gardens. She didn't know why she was going there, she couldn't get out, not with her leg in the shape it was, but she needed to at least feel free, even though she wasn't.

She made her way slowly but surely to the soft grass of the gardens and simply stood for a moment, taking in the chill air of the coming snow, the clouds above her were gray and heavy with promise. Had it really been so long since she'd come here? It was early autumn when she'd first arrived, now it must be at least mid winter. She felt a pain in her chest that was all too familiar by now and she was forced to remind herself that this was home now. As much as it pained her to believe, she was never going home. She felt tears well up in her eyes and she growled in frustration, wiping them away before they had a chance to fall. She needed to calm down and think, she needed to move.

She drew a breath and began running through some beginner yoga, ignoring the cold that nipped at her skin and the pain in her leg. It felt good to simply move again, it had been months since she'd able to just move, and while she was still sore and wounded, she was beginning to feel like herself again. She transitioned from the yoga into some simple fighting practice, keeping her injured leg in mind while she moved through moves, feeling her muscles tense and release with each punch or kick. The next transition was much smoother, going from fighting into the fluid dancing that had been her combination of traditional and western style bellydance. It was her favorite thing to do when she was stressed, but it was hard on her battered body.

She pushed through the muscle pains, alternating between groups so that she didn't tire one out over the others. Hip movements had always been her favorite, they'd always been the easiest for her to do, being gifted with wide hips and a narrow waist, she didn't have to move as much to achieve the same effect. She allowed the motion to flow through her, feeling her feet planted firmly in the grass as her upper body swayed and bent with the music she played in her mind. It wasn't until the music was over that she became aware of something behind her.

"I seem to recall telling you to stay put in the bed." His voice was low, but not angry.

"I got bored." She responded, executing a perfect turn and dropping her arms. "That room lacks anything to keep my mind busy, and my thoughts are not a happy place to be at the moment." She said, walking up to him, suddenly acutely aware of how cold she was.

"It is meant to be restful." He responded, smiling at her and ushering her back into the relative warmth of the passageway. "You are not dressed for the weather." He observed, his eyes tracing the lines of her body under the shift.

"You didn't leave me anything else." She said, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"My apologies. I did not think you would be gyrating in the gardens with an injured leg." He smirked, watching the emotions play on her face.

"Alright, while you aren't technically wrong, I was dancing, it just happens to include gyration." She said. "You made it sound sexual, it isn't."

"Are you sure? I can think of no other reason to move in such a way." He said, his voice dropping a little lower.

"Well that is because it isn't meant for you. It's called bellydance and the styles I practice were made by women for women, though men can do them as well, if you would like me to teach you." She said, smirking up at him.

"What is the purpose of this dance? Is it perhaps to attract a partner?" He asked, clearly intimating something deeper.

"Actually it is to help a woman become more in touch with her body, how she uses it after that, is up to her." She said, deciding to give as good as she got.

"So it is meant to be used in bonding." He said, thinking he'd caught her out.

"Or simply to clear the mind and work the muscles. If you choose to see it as sexual, that is your own mind being dirty, not the dance." She said, grinning as he walked into her trap. He laughed softly, placing hand on her back to help support her as her muscles began to register their complaint.

"I have been informed of your displeasure at my decision to leave you in the kingdom." He said.

"Displeasure is hardly the word I would use, though well played with opening with flirting before bringing it up." She said, leaning against him as they moved through into his office. She dropped into a chair by the fire, sighing softly as the warmth began to seep into her sore muscles.

"I thought it a clever way to approach the subject." He said, seating himself beside her. "You understand why it must be this way." He said, clearly not asking for her thoughts.

"I understand why you think it has to be this way. But that doesn't make me agree with you. If I'm in so much danger that I can't even come with you, then with you is the safest place for me." She said, hoping to turn his logic on its head.

"Del, we do not know what awaits us in Dale. We could be facing any number of threats." He said, keeping his argument vague.

"Thirteen dwarves and a hobbit are hardly a threat, and besides, I know what's going to happen so again, the best place for me is with you." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And what if more orcs come for you? I cannot fight a war on two fronts." He said, his temper starting to flare.

"But unguarded, injured and alone in a massive cavern I can't quite navigate yet is perfectly safe from orcs, which have already attacked me here once." She said, her eyebrow threatening to disappear into her hairline.

"Yes, here you can be contained. I will leave a retinue of my finest with you and they will keep you safe." He said, thinking once again that he'd caught her.

"Why can't you take your finest with you and let me guard them out in Dale? I mean, you aren't gonna make your camp in the middle of the battle are you? Surely there is gonna be one safe patch of land for me to be on out there." She said, disregarding the obvious warning signs Thranduil was giving off.

"Why are you so difficult?" He growled.

"Why are you really making me stay here?" She responded, her voice gaining volume.

"Because I cannot be trusted." He said, his tone full of anger. He looked away, his eyes fixing on one of the many tiny divets in the wood of his desk. Del was struck dumb for a moment. It had never crossed her mind that he was the thing he feared would hurt her. She'd honestly thought they were past all that, what with the events in the bathroom and all.

"Do you honestly think that is still a threat?" She asked, reaching out for him, resting a hand on his arm.

"I do not know, but if I take you and my less charitable side emerges, there will be no way to ensure your safety. You could run from me and into the arms of the enemy, I will not be responsible for putting you in peril. Del, I know you do not want to stay here alone. I know this place is still foreign to you, but you must stay safe." He sounded so afraid that it broke her heart. She hadn't meant to upset him.

"I understand. I'll stay. I'm sorry I made you go through that." She said, standing from her chair and walking back toward the bedroom. A hand on her shoulder stopped her and gently pushed her to turn. She didn't know if she could handle seeing him upset right now, but a finger under her chin pushed her to look at him and she sighed, seeing a quiet happiness that soothed her conscience.

"You have done me no harm, I should have discussed this with you from the start, I feared your response." He said, cupping her cheek in one large hand.

"Well if we're gonna be a couple then you better get over that damn quick cause I can't be in a relationship with someone who isn't open with me." She said, leveling a serious look at him. "I don't know how relationships work in the world, but where I'm from, a couple is honest with each other, about everything, so that's what I expect okay?" She took a half step back, her neck beginning to cramp but how far up she had to look to meet his eyes.

"It will be an adjustment, I will not lie, but I will endeavor to be more open with my thoughts. A lord does not share this troubles with his lady in this realm, it is considered unseemly for a lady to be burdened in such a manner, but I see now that the ladies of your realm are quite different, more than capable of handling unhappy matters of the mind." He smiled, a twinkle of something she couldn't quite place in the corner of his eye.

"Sounds fair, just know that I'll call you on it if you mess up. I don't subscribe to this whole "women are too weak" nonsense and I am every bit the fighter that you are, or did you forget the way I trounced you in the hall." She grinned, meeting his eyes.

"I have not forgotten, it will be a long while yet before that is scrubbed from my mind." He smirked, veiling his wounded pride. "You truly are formidable, under the right circumstances, though I doubt you could best me again. You had the element of surprise on your side, that handed you the victory." He said, his smirk spreading to a full on grin.

"Oh ya think? I'll have to disabuse you of that notion sometime." She said, returning the grin.

"Yes, you will, but for now," He swept her up into his arms and carried her effortlessly back to the bed, dropping her gently onto its pillowy surface, "Stay put." He said, pulling the blanket over her. "I will return soon with something to entertain yourself with. Until then, try to rest, you are not yet fully healed and it would not do to have my future queen take ill again." He said, leaning down and giving her a searing kiss. She took a deep breath as he stood away from her and sent a mock glare up at his cocky expression.

"That's cheating." She said, a grin breaking out over her face.

"I prefer the term tactical." He said, bowing and sweeping from the room, an undeniable spring in his step that made her heart skip a beat. She sighed, settling back against the pillows, feeling a good deal more tired now that she'd been properly active, but her mind would not let her rest. She was now physically tired, but mentally, she was still awake. She wished someone was there to talk to. As if summoned by her silent wishing, the door swung open, revealing the prince's unsure face.

"Oh hello Legolas, two visits in one day, I hope its not more bad news." She said, sitting up against the pillows.

"No, I come about my own business now." He said, stepping into the room.

"Uh oh, am I in trouble?" She asked, grinning up at him.

"No Lady Del, you are in no trouble." He said, returning the smile and moving closer. "Though I do wish to discuss a rather delicate matter with you, if I may." He asked, sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, what's up?" She asked, her expression open and inviting.

"I'm afraid I do not understand your question." He said, turning to look at the ceiling and then back at the smiling girl in the bed.

"Oh, sorry, it's a phrase we use in my world. It just means what's the matter." She said, laughing softly.

"Ah, I see. Well, the matter is this. I know you have coupled with my father, he has made a passing mention of it to me in response to the punishment of the guard who, intruded upon you both. What I wish to know is this. Do you love him?" He asked, his eyes pinning her in place. She'd never noticed before, just how blue they really were, just like his father's. She took a breath, organizing her thoughts as the question shook her to the core. It wasn't something she'd ever thought about before, she knew she cared for him, that she wanted to be around him, that she thought he was attractive, but love was a very strong word.

"I don't know. Love means something very specific to me, and I simply haven't had enough time with your father to use that word. I know that I care about him very much. I know I'm happier when he's around. It makes me happy when he sings to me and I feel safe when he's around, most of the time." She smiled, giving him a raised eyebrow, which in turn caused his own soft laughter. "I know that even when he's being pompous and kingly I still think he's worth my notice and I know that he'll do whatever he can to keep me safe. I don't know if that helps at all, but it's how I feel." She said, shrugging and feeling like she'd given him the run around.

"That helps a great deal. I do not know how you describe love, but for my kind, it is what you have explained to me. Perhaps, you simply need time to trust in what you feel and give it the name you so fear. Whatever the case, I feel my father is in very good hands and you have put my heart at ease. Would you care for some company, I find I am not yet ready for bed myself." He said, smiling at her.

"Company would be lovely." She smiled. "Though, I don't know what we would talk about."

"You do not do yourself justice Del, you come from a world outside our own. Do you not consider that worth a discussion?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her oversight.

"Oh, I suppose I didn't until now. This is the foreign world for me, I keep forgetting that I'm the outsider." She smiled, feeling a pang of homesickness grip her heart.

"You are not an outsider Del. You are as much a member of this kingdom and this world as I am. I hope in time you can see that. Now, tell me of the customs of your people. You act so strangely, running around in nothing but a shift and bare feet. Your people must be quite interesting." He smiled, trying to encourage her to be more open.

"Yes, tell us of your world." Thranduil's voice floated over to them from the door as he stepped into the room, moving gracefully to the other end of the bed and sitting down beside his son. "It occurs to me that we have never spoken of it." He smiled, making himself comfortable and waiting patiently for her to begin talking.

"Well, I guess I'll go ahead and address the shift thing first. This," She gestured to the shift, "is considered a full dress where I'm from. Honestly, add a belt and some flats and I could walk around in this with no problems. As for the bare feet thing, that's just because I grew up in the country, lots of rough paths and walking without shoes on. There was a great deal of time, in my world, where layers of clothing were needed to be proper, like what you have here, but as life got busier and things got more industrialized, the long flowing gowns and multiple layers gave way to simple dresses and even trousers." She shrugged, thinking this was the most boring thing they could be talking about.

"Breeches, on females?" Legolas gave her a look of pure incredulity.

"Yeah, it's common place in my world. Honestly, if you think about the way our various...parts, are constructed, it makes more sense for males to wear skirts that in does females." She grinned, watching the look of sheer horror cross their faces.

"Now I know you are taking us for fools." Thranduil laughed, shaking his head softly.

"I'm not, I swear. The women in my world wear pants, and have jobs, and can own land and be single parents and everything else a man can do. We're equal, well, mostly equal, there are still a lot of societal inequalities, but we're working on that." She said, smiling and kicking Thranduil softly.

"Well that certainly answers a great many things about you." Legolas laughed, earning a kick for his trouble.

"What of this "industrialization" you mentioned." Thranduil asked, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Well that's gonna take a little while to explain. It refers to the advancement of technology, machines with a lot of moving parts that do the jobs that people don't want to do. Like, instead of having fifty farm hands out tilling fields, you have what we call a tractor, which is a horseless carriage that hauls a massive plow behind it to break the ground instead. Instead of having people hand weave fabric and hand sew, we have machines that do it for us. It's much faster and you can get a lot more done in a day." She looked from father to son, waiting to see some sign of understanding.

"While I cannot picture these machines you speak of, I do understand the concept. It is a fascinating idea, having a single apparatus do the work of fifty men. But how does it function?" Legolas asked.

"Well most of them run on some form of what we call fossil fuel, which is like coal or oil. We burn the coal to heat water, which creates steam, which is converted into power, or we refine the rough oil into a fuel source we call gasoline, which powers an engine, which I don't even fully understand." She smiled, feeling embarrassed at her lack of knowledge.

"Perhaps we could puzzle it out together some time." Thranduil said, giving her a reassuring smile.

"I have another question." Legolas said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You speak of women in your world as being equal to men. But if the women do the work of the men, what do the men do?" He asked, grinning at her.

"Well they do the woman work of course." She said, giving him her best dead pan look. He returned it with stoicism to rival his father and, though she gave it a good try, she broke first, grinning and sending both men into a fit of quiet laughter. "I almost had you there. But seriously, everyone does a little bit of everything. Fathers stay home with babies while mothers go to work. Or, more often than not, both parents work while the child is taken care of by a nanny or friend. Things aren't separated out into man or woman anymore in most places." She smiled, leaning back against the bed.

"But what of courtship and wooing. You speak of your world in such stark terms." Legolas asked, leaning forward, clearly taking a real interest.

"Oh they are, it's just different. You say courting, we call it dating, and it's much more relaxed than what you do. Here it's all ritual and propriety, but in my world, it's much more personal. When a man and a woman meet, they just talk, get to know each other as people and then they agree to meet a place, usually a restaurant, and they sit down, have a meal together, talk some more, flirt, and then, sometimes, they go and...talk." She said, giving as much emphasis to the word as she could.

"They meet and talk, alone." Thranduil's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. "No chaperones, no fathers or mothers, just the two alone?"

"Yes. Coupling, as you put it, isn't considered sacred in my world. It's special, but you can sleep with whoever you want and still be considered a viable mate for marriage, at least in my country, it's different in some parts of the world, but mostly it's just two people who like each other and want to have some fun." She shrugged, watching both elves struggle to comprehend what she was saying.

"And marriage is done purely for love in your world?" Legolas asked, looking sidelong at his father.

"Yeah, there's no marrying for status or money anymore. It used to be a big deal, but all that is long gone in my country and now people just get married because they love each other and want to be with each other." She smiled, looking over at Thranduil.

"What a novel idea." He said, giving her a small smile.

"You mentioned something, a restaurant, what is this place?" Legolas asked, oblivious to the silent messages passing between the two.

"A restaurant is a place where you sit and eat. There are all different kinds with different menus based around different countries or styles of cuisine. Some places are really cheap, the food doesn't cost that much, so it's not usually as good, but I've found that there's something out there for everyone." She tried to stifle her yawn as her brain finally caught up to the rest of her body in exhaustion.

"Are you tired my lady?" Thranduil asked, leaning forward.

"I'm alright, we can keep talking if you want. It's been ages since I had a decent conversation." She smiled, hoping he would catch the hint and send Legolas away.

"There will be time for conversation tomorrow. Legolas, you have early guard." Thranduil said, his voice taking on a fatherly quality.

"Yes Father." He stood, turning and taking her hand from the mattress. "It has been a pleasure speaking with you. I look forward to many more conversations." He placed a small kiss on her hand and stepped around the bed, taking his father's hand in a gesture that must've been the elven equivalent of a hug before taking his leave, shutting the door quietly behind him. Thranduil walked behind a changing screen, stripping down to just his leggings before stepping back out into the room.

"I hope he did not disturb you." He said, settling softly onto the bed beside her.

"I was actually happy to see him, my brain was still a busy mess of thoughts so I couldn't get to sleep." She smiled up at him as he slid under the blanket.

"You mind is such a busy place, I blame that world of yours. It sounds so restless." He smiled, clearly trying to get a rise out of her.

"It is, but there are still quiet places you can go to get away from it. I like busy, it keeps me from getting bored." She grinned, scooting as close are her injured leg would allow. "I don't think my excursion was such a good idea, my leg is all sore and angry now." She groaned as she moved it, feeling the tender skin slide across the soft sheets.

"It was a foolish thing to do, though I don't think you would be quite yourself if you didn't do foolish things." He smiled, meeting her halfway across the large bed to spare her further pain.

"I think you just insulted me." She laughed, watching his stoic mask break into a playful smile.

"Or did I merely pay you a compliment on something you view as a negative trait?" He questioned, adopting the haughty look of a man who thinks he's right.

"Oh I'm too tired for mental battles, you win. I'm a silly adorable human." She closed her eyes, cuddling up as close to him as she could.

"Is this common among your people. You have plenty of bed over there." He laughed softly.

"This is the cuddling thing we talked about before remember. It makes me feel relaxed and happy." She said, bumping his shoulder softly with her fist.

"I see, and I'm to hold you close correct?" He asked, already wrapping his arms around her smaller frame.

"You got it." She said, sighing happily against his bare chest.

"I do believe I approve of this custom." He sighed, feeling himself truly relax for the first time in far too many years.

"It's a good custom." She agreed, yawning softly as sleep began to creep up on her.

"I heard you talking with my son before I came in." He said, knowing she was already too far gone to really understand.

"Oh yeah?" She asked, her words slurring.

"Yes, and I just wanted to say that I feel the same as you." He said, fearing her response. She laughed softly and nuzzled deeper into his embrace.

"It's funny, I'm in love with an elf king, and he loves me too." She mumbled, her breath evening out a moment later.

Thranduil felt his heart swell at her confession and he tightened his grip just a little more. This tiny human had done what no elleth had managed in over one hundred years. Despite all he'd put her through, all the pain and sorrow he'd caused, she loved him, and she had managed to take his heart in the bargain as well. He would not lose love again, he would not survive it, he knew. He would keep her safe and happy within his halls and pray to Eru and all the Valar that a way was found to extend her life. She had brought light back into his life, more precious than that of the stars and he intended to make sure that light never went out.

Sleep was slow to claim him that night. He found himself comparing his little queen to different forest animals. She was swift and spritely, like the foxes that once roamed the greatwood. She was stubborn and hard to move, like the elk that sired his beloved mount. She was small and agile like the forest cats he would still see on his summer hunts. But, unlike the eldar, who could always be compared to the fairer of animals in their entirety, she was too much herself to be anything else. He laughed softly as she burrowed further into the blankets, her hand brushing absently over her face. He stroked her hair back away from her face, a song echoing low in his chest, soothing her mind and sending her off to a deep and dreamless sleep.

He watched her for a while more, tracing the shadows cast on her hair by the fire as sleep slowly stole over him. He knew he would need his rest, there was a war to plan, but he was loathe to lose sight of her for even a moment. The last image he saw, as darkness crept into his vision, was a soft smile on his queens face and the shadow of the fire looming tall over her.


	11. The Last Night

Del sighed as she came slowly back to wakefulness, curling into the warm solidness of the body in the bed beside her. A soft humming nearly lulled her back to unconsciousness, but a poorly timed stretch flashed pain from her leg that grounded her solidly in the land of the alert.

"Ow! Damn knife wound." She groaned, curling her leg back to relieve the pulling tension.

"Are you alright?" Thranduil asked, barely keeping the mirth from his tone.

"Other than the aching gash in my leg, I'm just peachy." She growled, burrowing deeper under the covers.

"Perhaps you will listen in the future when I tell you to rest." He said, pulling her bodily into his embrace, a hand tracing lazy circles across her back.

"How did I know you were gonna say that." She sighed, looking up at him through her tangled mess of hair. He simply smiled down at her, applying gentle pressure to her back in a way that had her purring. "That is cheating." She mumbled, feeling her eyes begin to close again.

"Perhaps, but it is not yet dawn, and you will thank me in the morning." He said, resuming his soft humming until he felt her relax fully against him. He had never realized before, just how much sleep a human required. He knew that they would often sleep for up to ten hours, but he'd always assumed it was for pleasure as opposed to being a necessity. Del had brought many things to his attention, not the least of which were his own many short comings.

The passing of his wife had changed him in ways he hadn't realized. He had become cold, uncaring of the outside world and its troubles, barely able to contain his rage at the loss he never seemed to heal from. He'd longed to fade as others had, simply pass away into memory and leave the duty of caring for his people to another, but his son had made that impossible. He liked to think he'd been a good father to his prince, but as he watched the way Legolas interacted with others, how he seemed to have inherited his father's detachment, he couldn't help but feel he'd done the boy a disservice.

When Legolas was a child, he'd been so full of light and life, talking to anyone and everyone who would sit still for more than a moment. But now, he was stoic and silent, speaking only when it served the moment to do so, and that caused Thrandiul a level of regret he didn't quite know how to manage. He would rectify his mistake, if he could. But first, he had to see to his lady's safety. She would sleep for many hours yet, her body taking the healing rest it needed, and he would use that time to make arrangements for her.

She could not remain in the kingdom, it was too vulnerable, the Orc raid had proven that. He shuddered to think what would have come to be had he not heard her screams when he did. He was too slow to prevent her injury, and if he'd been a moment later, he would have been holding a corpse, it was too much to risk again. So, that left only one solution, she would have to be placed in the care of someone he knew would be able to keep her safe, though she may resent him for taking the decision from her, at least she would be alive.

He nodded, resuming the process of extricating himself from the tangle of limbs she apparently became when she slept. He'd never seen a female who could cling to something the way she did. It was as if she feared to let him go even in slumber and it warmed his heart to think that she sought him out despite being asleep.

He sighed as he finally pulled his body from her grasp, standing slowly as he stretched himself to his full height in one graceful arch. It felt odd to have another person in the room as he woke, he'd been alone for so long that he found himself at a loss for how to proceed. He reached for his dressing gown, hung carefully over the changing screen, but stilled as he felt a familiar pain creep up the back of his skull.

"No, not now." He drew a breath just as the pain blossomed in his mind, the fog of his alternative self fighting to take over his vision. "I will not submit to you." He growled, snatching his robe and running from the room, locking it and tossing the key away on his way out of his rooms. He stumbled into the hall, a scream ripping its way from his throat as he struggled to suppress his duplicate personality. His personal guards were at his side in an instant, strong hands grasping him to support his weight as he fought for control. "Protect her from me, at any cost." He gasped, falling to his knees as his control slipped away under the fog.

The guards nodded, moving to stand by the entrance to his rooms, weapons out and ready as their king remained still on the floor. They knew it would only be a moment before he was up and giving orders, but they took that moment to lament their ruler's plight.

"Where is the woman?" His voice all but slithered to them, dripping with threat.

"She is in your rooms, not to be disturbed my king, on your orders." The guard's tone was final and left no room for weakness.

"I gave no such order, remove yourself from my door and allow me passage." The king said, rising regally to his feet and turning slowly to face his guardsmen.

"You are loyal to me, not some bothersome human female." He sneered, approaching the door with determination.

"You will not pass this door my lord." The same guard responded, stepping into the king's path, sword drawn.

"You dare bare your weapon to your king?" Thranduil barked, stopping and glaring death at the guard.

"Apologies highness but you may not pass this door." He said, refusing to meet his leader's eyes.

"What danger do you imagine I pose? I am not dressed nor am I armed. I will not harm the girl, I merely wish to access my rooms so that I may make myself presentable for the war meeting." He said, his tone relaxing into something almost congenial.

"Forgive me lord but you may not enter. I can retrieve anything you require from within, but you must remain outside." The second guard stepped up, trying to mitigate the anger they both knew was coming.

"I do not require assistance, I require admittance." Thranduil snarled, moving to step between the two guards only to be rebuffed. "You will remove yourself from my path or I will have you flogged." He said, his face turning angry.

"A punishment I will gladly accept." The guards responded in unison, staring him down with pure determination.

"I see you will not be dissuaded, very well, I request only a simple ensemble and my maps of the area of Esgaroth. I will await you here." He said, stepping back a few paces and adopting an air of nonchalance. The guards traded glances before nodding to each other, one of the disappearing inside while the other moved to block the doorway with his full body. The two elves stood in silence for a long moment, neither moving or speaking until the door opened once more.

"Apologies my lord, I had to locate the key to the bedroom as you appear to have locked the door on your way out." The second guard handed the requested clothing and accessories over to the sour faced king before resuming his position before the door.

"I will return, and I will expect entry." He said, moving quickly away down the hall.

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Del groaned as the pain in her leg pulled her slowly from the pleasant dream she'd been enjoying. She reached out beside her, looking for the warmth of the king, only to be met with cool sheets and empty air. The lack of a body, where arguably one should be, brought her firmly to wakefulness and had her sitting up slowly, her eyes scanning the room.

Light crept in from the windows set high up in the wall telling her that it was perhaps a little before noon, giving her an explanation as to why she was alone in the bed. She smiled, remembering the way he'd lulled her back to sleep during the night, and made her way slowly out of the bed. She felt awkward, walking around in nothing but a shift she'd had on for several days, but she hadn't been given a change of clothes, so it would have to do.

She stretched slowly, making sure to keep her injured leg relaxed as she felt her joints pop and crack. She knew she probably should just wait for Thranduil to return and give her assistance with things like clothing, but she was hungry, so she set bout limping slowly to the door, hissing as her leg objected to the motion with every step.

She made it to the door easily enough, leaning against he wardrobe and walls for support, but as she pulled on the handle, she found that it wouldn't open. She paused for a moment, testing it a few more times before she began to feel panic rise in her chest. What if he'd gone off to war without saying goodbye? What if something had happened in the complex and he was hurt? Why would he lock her in?

"Hello!?" She shouted, banging loudly on the door. "Let me out!" She rattled the door knob again, hoping that someone was on the other side who could hear her. She breathed a sigh of relief as the sound of footsteps met her ears a moment later, and the sound of the lock turning let her know that she wasn't completely alone.

"My lady, I must request that you not be so loud. You have been confined to these rooms for your own safety by the king. I am afraid he has returned to his less...charming persona, and feared that he would do you harm. Tauriel is coming to see to your needs and inform you of what is to come in regards to the war. Please be patient until she arrives." The guard sounded sympathetic, like he understood how hard this would be for her, but the urgency in his voice let her know that she was better off not arguing.

"Alright, I understand. Sorry for the outburst." She smiled, backing slowly away from the door as it closed, the sound of the lock ringing out softly a moment later. She growled, her mind already starting to turn over ways to fix the situation. She'd just found a happy balance in this place and she wasn't going to let it be upset because an arrant personality decided he wanted to play driver for the day. She would do whatever she needed to in order for this to work, but she didn't know how much more house arrest she could take.

She'd just begun to really spin her mental wheels when the door slid silently open, revealing a familiar red head and her currently surly expression. She smiled, reading the elleth's anger on her face and nodding. Tauriel deposited a simple dress and slippers onto the bed, setting a small tray of food beside them and sighed, motioning for Del to come stand beside her.

"So you're gonna by my gopher today huh?" Del asked, limping around the edge of the bed to stand before the sour faced female.

"Gopher?" She asked, her head cocking to the side as she began separating out layers to help Del into.

"Yeah, it's a slang term for someone who is a professional helper, cause they go for a lot of things." She said, hoping that this got the point across.

"Ah, I see, yes, I am your gopher for now." She said, smiling as she helped Del out of the shift. It was something that Del had been forced to get used to, being naked around female elves. It was something that they viewed as normal, even natural, and it had taken her the longest time to lose her sense of personal privacy. But now, after having to endure months of being stripped on a daily basis as well as help with basic tasks like bathing, she found she didn't mind being exposed around the other females.

"The guard said you'd have news as well." She ventured, balancing on her good leg as she slid into the under-dress that Tauriel was holding out for her.

"Yes, as you know, the alternate personality has made a resurgence in his mind, and with it, alternate plans for you I'm afraid." Tauriel replied, smoothing out the fabric in an almost nervous manner.

"What has changed?" Del asked, steeling herself for the worst. Tauriel put off answering by helping her into the overdress and going through every adjustment she could think of before helping Del over to one of the high backed chairs opposite to the bed.

"The over all plan remains the same, you will remain in the kingdom while he and the army travel to Dale. But, you will remain here alone. He is taking all of his guardsmen as well as the army at large to the field. I do not know if his rational mind will return to him before we depart, but not even I am being allowed to remain behind, and we set out at dawn. There is talk among the ranks of a small force hiding away during out outset so that they might simply be overlooked and thus be free to remain, but I do not wish to give you false hope. I have hidden weapons in the wardrobe and under the bed, should you need them, but that is the extent of the help I can offer." She stood, bringing the tray of food as well as a small table over to the chair and setting up the small meal.

"So I'm just going to be here by myself with no help whatsoever? What about the rest of the elves in the complex? Don't they know how to fight at least a little bit? I mean, I can go to the healing rooms and stay there, at least I won't be alone." Del said, thinking out loud to try and still the frustration and fear rising in her chest.

"The King has ordered you confined to these quarters until his return. He does not want you getting any ideas of escape while he is absent. I will do all I can to get you at least a modicum of freedom, but he seems determined to ensure that you not only remain in this realm, but also under his complete control. Now I must go, my regiment is scheduled for inspection within the hour." She sighed, standing, a hand coming to rest on her shoulder for one last moment of comfort before she turned, sweeping from the room and leaving Del to her thoughts.

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It had been hours since her visit from Tauriel and she'd already gotten tired of everything in the rooms she had access too. The bathroom was nice and all, full off soft tones and smooth surfaces, but she was ready to begin a tunneling effort if she had to see them again. She sighed, resuming her seat and picking mindlessly at the small bread crumbs left on the plate from her meal and began to let her mind wander. Would he return here tonight? Would he share his bed with her before heading off to potentially die? Would she ever get to see him again?

She wracked her mind, trying to draw up every bit of information she could remember from her book about the battle itself. She'd never really liked reading about the battle, it seemed so silly and needless in the context of the story, plus she hated reading about all the dwarves that died. She tried to draw up all the events in order, hoping that it would help her fill in the gaps in her memory. First, the men of Esgaroth got attacked by Smaug, which had happened, then they moved to Dale in a vain attempt to survive the winter.

She sighed, wishing once again that she had her book with her. She knew they went to the dwarves for help at some point and were turned away, but she couldn't remember if that was before or after the elves showed up. She knew that Thorin's cousin made an appearance in the battle but she couldn't remember anything about the outcome, other than that Thorin and a few other dwarves died.

She growled, her frustration building with each passing second. She didn't know if the things she remembered from the book would even happen now. So much had changed already, what if the events in the battle changed as well? She knew Thranduil didn't die in the battle in the book because it was his insistence that led to Legolas going to the council meeting in Lord of the Rings, but what if that had changed?

She needed to get out of this room, she needed air. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to find something she could use to get out when her eyes landed on the high windows. She smiled as an idea began to form and she stood, taking hold of the chair and slowly dragging it across the room to rest against the wall under the window. She stood back, trying to see if she needed to tilt or move it to reach the window and swore softly when she noticed she was missing a few inches of height. She looked around, trying to find something to put in the seat of the chair to boost herself up and her eyes landed on the one bookshelf in the room. The books looked thick and sturdy, like the old encyclopedias her father used to collect. They should be enough to give her the height she needed to reach the window.

She took a moment to rest her leg, trying to ignore the aching pull of the stitching in her leg and ran through her burgeoning plan one more time. She would use the window to try and get outside, assuming it was able to open, and then make her way to the river from there. It would suck, to have to hoof it all the way out of the forest, but she was better off on the move than stuck in one place. The books were much heavier than they looked, each one taking a few minutes to heft from one side of the room to the other, but as she set the last one in place, she felt a rush of adrenaline. Was she really going to do this? The army hadn't even left yet and here she was, trying to escape. Should she wait until the morning? 

Would it be better to have the army in front of her or behind? She sighed, feeling doubt beginning to creep into her mind, making her question her decision. She was wounded, exhausted, unarmed, unprepared and totally incapable of finding her way around outside these halls. Thranduil would be furious if he came back and found her gone, no matter which mind was in control at the time, and she had no way of hiding herself from him. She didn't want to leave, in all honesty, she'd learned to love the way of life in his kingdom and was even beginning to get a handle on the language, but she didn't want to suffer through another Orc attack either.

Without pausing to doubt herself further, she climbed up onto the chair, taking a moment to find her balance before stepping up onto the books. It too her a moment to feel secure on the book pile, her injured leg going into a spasm as a result of the strain, and she was forced to grip the windowsill to keep from falling. As her leg relaxed, she turned her eyes to the casing of the window, looking for any kind of latch or hinge that would show her it could be opened.  
It appeared to rest near ground level, there was faded grass and leaves about a foot below her, making escape easy if she could find a way to get it open. She ran a hand slowly around the edge of the glass, feeling for anything that might be a latch and laughed softly as she felt a small level just under the wooden frame at the top of the curved casement. She had a way out.

The sound of footsteps outside the door drew her down from the chair. She pulled the books to the floor, stacking them by the bed hurriedly before she turned and planted herself in the chair. She watched the door with trepidation, not knowing who was on the other side making all manner of nightmares bloom in her mind. It could be a friend, or it could be him. She held her breath as the door swung open, revealing long blond hair and fierce blue eyes.

"I see you have decided to redecorate." Thranduil said, his tone far from conversational.

"I moved it here for more light. I can move it back if you want." She said, trying to head off an altercation.

"It matters little to me." He said, sweeping through the room, pausing to eye the books on the ground. "I thought you did not understand our language." He smirked, turning to face her.

"Tauriel has been teaching me, a little, I wanted to see how far I could get." She leaned down, picking up one of the heavy books and opening the thick cover.

"And?" He asked, an eyebrow creeping gracefully into an arch.

"I can tell a few words, but it's still pretty much gibberish to me." She said, turning her eyes to the words.

"The human mind has many limits. Tauriel is waiting in the antechamber with supplies for your...comfort. You are to remain confined to these rooms until I return. If I find you have disobeyed my orders, I will most...displeased. Do you understand?" He asked, his voice dropping dangerously low.

"I understand. Will you be staying here tonight?" She tried to keep the hope from her voice, not wanting to set herself up for more hurt.

"I will not. There is much to make ready and no time to waste." He turned from her, his face crumbling into an expression of pain as he spoke. She responded with a soft "oh", feeling her heart constrict. She'd figured that would be the case, but hearing it brought the truth of her situation home to her. He paused at the door, turning back to look at her downcast face and feeling a pang of guilt which was quickly quelled as he remembered that she was the one who brought this upon him in the firsts place. He sneered softly at her weakness and swept from the room, Tauriel taking her turn to go in.

"Del, I cannot stay, the king awaits me in the hall. Please, do not do anything rash while we are away. I know this situation is untenable as it is now, but trust in his feelings for you and know that he will return to you in time." She spoke softly and hurriedly, her eyes traveling from the books to the chair to the window before settling back on the stoic human before her. "It would pain me if something were to happen to you." She sighed, knowing that there was little she could do for her friend and nodded, setting several dresses as well as a loaded tray down onto the bed. She straightened, schooling her expression into one of indifference before sweeping from the room in the same imperial manner the King had employed.

Del wanted to speak out, scream, rail against the decisions being made without her influence or consent, but all she could do was stand, rooted silently in place until the sound of the exterior door shutting echoed back to her, sealing her fate. She knew the odds of success were slim, but she had to do something. She had promised herself, the day she left the healing rooms, that she wouldn't just sit around and have things happen to her anymore. She was done being someone else's puppet.

She waited, not daring to move for fear of alerting someone to her plan, letting time stretch on around her until she was sure she was truly alone. After checking the door, ensuring it was locked, she returned the books to the chair and climbed back up to the window casing, finding the release latch and beginning to work it open. It must've been very old, and rusted from lack of use because it felt more like a solid piece of metal than a latch.

She struggled with it, pressing in both directions with all the strength she could muster in her fingers, only to have the metal remain stubbornly in place, though she got a cut on her thumb for her trouble. She needed something that would loosen the lock, something that would release the years worth of rust and stiffness. That was when she remembered the tray of food. It was all fruits cheeses and crackers and she remembered reading somewhere that a good at home remedy to rusty metal latches was cheese. The waxiness was perfect for lubricating stuck latches and old hinges, or so she'd read. She sighed, climbing once again to the floor and going to fetch a small wedge of pale yellow cheese, hoping against hope that it would prove effective.

She felt foolish as she slid the wedge up into the crack between the latch and the casing, rubbing it softly against the ancient metal while she applied gentle pressure with her other hand. It began to inch forward and she increased the force until it gave way with a small squeak, spraying a fine layer of rust into her face. She coughed softly, waving her hand in front of her face to clear it away, tossing the cheese back onto the bed, wincing at the blood like stain now on the leading edge of it, she'd been cutting that off before eating it, that's for sure.

"Alright Del, take a beat, you've gotta pace yourself or you'll fall." She spoke softly, not wanting anyone to overhear her talking to herself, either from the door or from outside. She didn't know if someone had been ordered to guard her until they set out or if she was truly on her own now, but she would prefer not to find out the hard way.

She took a breath, bracing her hands against the casing and leaning forward, trying to find hinges. She couldn't tell where they might be, no doubt lost under centuries of dust, but a small handle caught her eyes on the interior edge of the window frame. That meant it could be opened, if she applied enough force, which was going to be a problem given her precarious position. She took a moment, shaking the nervousness from her limbs as she gripped the handle tight, bracing her off hand on the interior wall and leaning in toward the window as she pulled back with all the force she could manage.

It was slow going at first, the window seemed to move a millimeter at a time no matter how hard she pulled, but as it moved further away from the exterior framing, it slid more and more quickly, soon coming free with yet another tiny squeak.

The breeze felt amazing, coming through the small crack she'd managed to open in the window, and she took a moment to breathe in the scents of outside. There was the metallic scent of snow in the air, as well as the sharp scent of wood smoke and it made her heart pound to think of the wide world outside the window.

Her attention was drawn by the sound of hooves against hard earth as the neared the window. She ducked down in the chair, making sure that no part of her was visible above the stone of the wall in case it was a passing patrol, but as the sound of marching feet rose up to join the hoof beats, she was filled with dread. They weren't supposed to leave until dawn, Tauriel had said, so why were they setting out now?

She waited until the hoof beats passed before she slowly rose, looking out of the glass and watching as line after line of armored elves crossed the long stone bridge to the far bank. Her eyes were drawn to the large animal at the front of the procession. She'd never seen such a large animal and struggled to put a name to it. Was it a moose? An elk? She wasn't sure from this distance, but she would know the elf that sat in the saddle from any distance and it broke her heart to see him setting off without her.

The pain welled up in her chest as all that she'd lost rose to the front of her mind. She saw the faces of her family, all her friends and colleagues, all the nieces and nephews she'd never see again, and finally, the finely chiseled features of the king as he looked down at her the night before. She shook herself from the thoughts, determining to ignore them until she was safely aware from this place.

"Alright, well you can't leave now, they would find you for sure, so just get some rest, you'll be able to think better in the morning." She said, stepping softly down from the books, though why she bothered to be silent she didn't know. It wasn't like there was anyone left to hear her if she decided to be loud. She felt a familiar sense of emptiness begin to chill her blood as she looked at the massive bed. It was too big for just one person, too empty to be filled with just one body.

"Oh now you're just being silly. It's not like you've even known him for that long. He didn't hang the moon and you can certainly sleep without him. Stop being such a moon eyed school girl just because an over attractive elf said he loved you. What are you, a teenager? You're an adult woman, act like it." She berated herself, shaking her head to clear away the depression that was undoubtedly the underlying cause for how she was feeling.

She'd been through a great deal in a very short time and it was finally catching up to her in the only way her mind knew how to convey. She'd lost her whole world, gained and lost a relationship with Thranduil, been attacked too many times to count and been on a relentless cycle of being safe and in danger since she'd woken up in the gods forsaken world. She took a deep breath, laying on the bed, not bothering to pull the blanket over herself, she knew she wouldn't be able to actually rest tonight, there was no need in being any more comfortable than she already was.

She felt the tears coming before they began to fall and, for once, she didn't fight them. If there was ever a proper time to cry, it was now. She let the full force of her cumulative loss crash into her and carry her away into the swirl of emotions that she'd been fighting to hold back for months. She curled in on herself, sobbing silently as she tried to hold herself together against the force of the pain that moving slowly through her. By the time her sobs quieted, it was well into the night, her eyes were swollen and red, sore from all the times she'd swiped at them and her head ached. She felt exhausted and, without much thought, allowed herself to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep, forgetting in her post grief haze that she'd left the window open.


	12. A New Threat, A New Regret

The first thought that came to her was that she was cold. Chill bumps lines her arms and legs and she couldn't repress the shiver that ran up her spine as she shifted on the soft bed, reaching for the blanket, only to have her hand meet with something rough and leathery. Her eyes flew open, knowing that texture and fearing the thing it belonged to, only to meet the sickly yellow eyes of a grinning Orc, blade drawn and at the ready. She let out a piercing shriek as she flew across the bed, forgetting her injured leg until it was grabbed roughly and used to drag her back toward the still grinning creature. This caused a shriek of a different kind to force its way out of her mouth as her leg exploded with pain. She kicked out reflexively, catching the thing square in the chest and freeing her leg from its grasp.

It growled as she slipped off the other side of the bed and leveled a murderous glare in her direction. She felt the color drain from her face as what she'd just done registered with her and she ran in the only direction available to her, holding the bathroom door shut with all her might. She knew it was a losing battle, but she also knew what would most likely happen to her if she let that thing get its claws into her, so she braced herself against the door and held out, screaming for all she was worth in the vain hope that someone would hear her and be able to help.

"Open door!" The orc barked. "Won't hurt or kill, orders!" He shouted, bum rushing the door and sending Del flying into the hard rim of the stone tub. "Master wants a word." He growled, knocking her over the head with the butt of his weapon. Her world swam for a moment, the pain in her ribs moving up to meet the pain in her head and neck until she pitched forward, feeling herself come to rest on the shoulder of the foul creature before her world went dark.

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Thranduil felt a jolt of pure fear race down his spine, nearly toppling him from his mount as he rode ahead of the wagon. He felt fog cloud his mind for a moment as the fear consumed him, all his thoughts focusing on the human woman before he managed to regain control. He sat still in the saddle for a moment, regaining his composure before he continued forward, making a mental note to send a guard or two back to check on her once they made camp for the night. It would do him no good to have her injured or vanish, there was still too much for him to learn from her.

"My lord, are you well?" One of the healers leaned forward from her seat on the wagon, soft worry creasing her brow.

"I am." He replied, urging his elk forward a few paces as he felt a sheen of sweat break out over his skin. The other one was fighting for control, but he was too close to his goal to give up just yet. He refocused, driving the small voice out of his mind and repressing it back to the corners of his mind, thinking only of his purpose and his anger until it faded completely and felt his heart rate return to normal. As the voice faded, so did his worry for the woman, he amended his earlier decision, deciding against sending anyone, he would need every elf he could get for the coming conflict. He nodded softly to himself, reassured and at peace once again and rode ahead to join his troops.

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Del groaned, her hand torn between checking her ribs, which ached terribly, and her head, which felt like it was about to split open.

"I told you not to harm her!" A voice barked, startling her to full awareness.

"She kicked, I had to." The guttural voice of the orc reached her, putting her on edge.

"You fool." The voice sounded angry and deadly quiet and any response from the orc was swept up in the gut wrenching scream that echoed around her, followed swiftly by the scent of burnt flesh and hair. It was enough to make her gag and struggle to move away from the source. "Oh, you were conscious for that then. My apologies." The voice seemed to be trying for a soothing tone as it neared her, but something about it was off around the edges, something that put her mind on alert, though she couldn't quite place what it was until a set of white robes fluttered into her field of vision. She felt her blood run cold as she realized who was in front of her and all thought flew from her mind as she focused on getting away from him. "Ah, movement is not the best course of action my dear, you are badly injured. Allow me to assist you." He said, leaning down and lifting her as if she weight nothing at all and depositing her softly in a chair nearby. "There now, we may talk while I have you seen to." He smiled, still trying to be reassuring and friendly with her.

"Pardon me sir, but, where am I?" She asked, hoping she could feign ignorance until someone realized she was gone.

"Oh, I think you know very well where you are Del, and how you came to be here and why you are here." He said, his smile turning faintly sinister. He pulled something from the sleeve of his robe and slid it across the small table to rest at her fingertips. It was her book, a little more battered than when she'd lost it, but still intact, and damning. She looked up at him, a look of sheer defiance on her face and nodded.

"No games then. I won't tell you anything that isn't already in that book and no amount of torture or pain will change that. You might as well put me back where you found me." She said, wincing as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Well that simply will not do. I do not wish to harm you child. I will care for you far better than that embittered elf ever could, and I don't require you lie with me beforehand." He grinned, no doubt trying to form a bond over abusing Thranduil.

"While I thank you for the offer, I must decline." She said, attempting to stand, only to fall back as her world spun.

"I did say movement was a bad idea." He said moving to stand in front of her, blocking her only means of exit. "You have sustained an injury to your skull, it could be causing damage as we speak. Please, my dear, remain still while I see to you." He reached a hand out slowly, feeling around her skull for any indications of injury, a soothing warmth radiating from his hand as it moved smoothly through her hair.

She took a deep breath, the motion causing her chest to spasm with pain and turn her breath to pained gasp, her arm moving to cradle her wounded side. He pulled his hand away, following her motion to her injured side and moving to feel softly at the tender flesh. She shouted as he pressed into the freshly forming bruise at her side and flinched automatically away the touch only to be pulled firmly back into place.

"I know it hurts my dear, but it must be treated." He sounded genuinely concerned this time, though she knew better than to trust anything he said. She contemplated fighting his grip, but a human could never overpower and Istari, let alone an injured, unarmed and unskilled one like her, so she sat still through the pain until the radiating warmth began to dull it and then take it away entirely.

"I didn't know the Istari could heal." She said, keeping her voice even and quiet.

"We can do a great many things my dear." He said, resuming his seat across the table from her. He seemed content to sit in silence, staring at her until she decided to speak. Del was watching his face, noting every small adjustment as he tried to make his face into the perfect form of "calm" to put her at ease, which only served to let her know exactly how dangerous her situation truly was. He wanted something from her, though she couldn't imagine what it was, and having Saruman the White want something from you was a very bad place to be.

"So, I'm just gonna cut to the chase here, sorry if you don't understand the vernacular. What do you want from me?" She took a breath, trying to calm her nerves, wondering if this was the right course to take.

"I want the knowledge you have of your world." He responded with the same tone as someone who was commenting on the rain.

"You have to know that I won't give you knowledge that could upset the balance of this world." She said, wondering if she was sealing her fate.

"I know you feel that you are honor bound to protect this world as it is, you see it as a simple picture, encapsulated by this novel, and the ones that follow. But what you must understand is that this is as every changing and variable as your world and I simply wish to see it advance, for the good of the people." He smiled, and it seemed so open and honest that, if she didn't already know his power, she would have believed him.

"The ones that follow?" She asked, deciding to feign innocence.

"There are other titles listed on the opening page, they make mention of a Lord of the Rings. I understood that to be Sauron. Was I mistaken?" He asked, leaning forward, displaying genuine interest for the first time.

"I'm afraid to say that you are. This author of this novel wrote many others, including takes on mythology common to my world. The Lord of the Rings is a reference to a common myth in the land of his birth and refers to one of many gods that hold power through "rings" which can be anything from the ring of light around the moon to a fairy ring in a field. His particular power center is a ring of standing stones in the north of his country called Stonehenge." She smiled, knowing how risky it was to lie to this being.

"I see. Well, that is disappointing to hear, but we still have much to discuss." His smile seemed to slip and she found that her nerves doubled. Did he know she was lying? What would he do if he found out she was lying? How was she getting out of here?

"That sounds actually quite nice, it's been ages since I've had a good talk with anyone, the elves are more for quiet reflection, as I'm sure you know. But I am starving and exhausted and, if I'm being honest, I really need to get a handle on my situation. Is it alright if I maybe go rest somewhere for a little while?" She didn't mean to play up the helpless angle quite so much, but she was actually feeling everything she'd just said. Perhaps honesty wasn't the best policy in this situation.

"Of course my dear, I took the liberty of setting your room up in advance, and I would like to apologize for the treatment you received. I should have known better than to trust that odious little toad with this, but it seemed the only path open to me at the time. I reached out to Thranduil many times in an attempt to get you here, but he seems to have been poisoned against me by my cousins. I hope you have not been similarly influenced." He helped her from the chair, steering her gently toward one of the doors that led off the massive chamber she'd woken up in.

"Gandalf did mention something along the lines of you being the reason I was brought here, but I honestly didn't believe it. I didn't say that to him, he's got that quick temper and all, but it just seemed to far fetched. I know you have great power, the creation of the Istari as well as the early history of Middle Earth in another novel called The Silmarillion, but to reach into a world that isn't your own seems beyond even your power." She laughed softly, smiling up at him, once again playing into the ignorant female role.

"I am pleased to hear it. You are correct in assuming that my power does not extend beyond this world. That is why I need you. I have seen a glimpse of your world, an upheaval some weeks ago that drew me unbidden into a vision of a world I could not comprehend, and I would know more, if I could. It is my wish that we may talk at length of your world and the industrial workings your people have discovered." He stopped her in front of a door, similar to every other door in the hall, and leaned around her, pushing gently open.

She smiled, nodding toward him as she stepped into the doorway, keeping her body blocking the door in case this turned out to be a trap, her eyes scanning the handsomely decorated room. There was a very comfortable looking bed, a shelf full of books and a carved desk with an oil lamp that provided soft light around the room.

"I imagine this is simple after the rooms you no doubt enjoyed in Thranduil's hall, but I hope it will suffice to keep you comfortable during your time here. Now, I will leave you to get settled and arrange for dinner to be brought to you here. Please, take your rest and recover from your shock, I will speak with you again tomorrow." He bowed, turning and walking back the way they'd come, leaving her to close the door on her own. She took a breath, stepping back into the room and closing the door, waiting for a moment to see if the trap was about to spring closed before finally allowing herself to breathe.  
She turned slowly around the room, feeling the very real exhaustion she'd spoken of before steal over her as she faced the bed. She was loathe to sleep, not trusting her host as far as she could throw him, but as she felt herself moving toward the bed, she knew that she would ultimately that particular battle and settled for simply giving up. The room was small, radiating the heat produced by the lamp on the desk, and as she pulled back the thick blanket, she sighed, settling into the soft mattress and closing her eyes.

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Thranduil tossed in his bed roll, his dreams troubled with images of orcs and a fear. There was something he needed, something that was slipping away from him, that he couldn't see or catch. He ran through the forest, shrouded in darkness and cold mist that obscured all but the path set before him, and though he ran, he seemed to move no further forward than when he'd begun. He screamed as pain blossomed in his side and at the back of his head, knocking him out of his stride and sending him spiraling down into the misty darkness.

He sat forward quickly, tossing the blanket aside as his mind returned from his troubled sleep. His eyes scanned his tent, searching for the real world cause of his racing heart, only to be met with an empty tent and the regular darkness of night shrouding all the things he'd ordered be brought along in the war meeting. He felt his heart constrict as the other one began to shout within his mind, telling him that something had happened to the woman and that he should turn back. He knew there was an attraction there and the other one had bonded with her, but he'd left her safely in the kingdom. Whatever this was, it could not have anything to do with her.

He sighed, feeling the fog coming over him as the voice became louder, pushing him to leave the tent in search of fresh air and peace. The guards in the camp nearest him peaked out of their tents, inquiring about his well being, only to be rebuked and sent away as he moved into the forest, his mind exploding with pain as the other one fought his way to foreground. He fell to his knees, his breath coming in short gasps as he began to sink once more under the foggy oppression of his other self.

"Tauriel!" He shouted, his mind coming back to him, full of the knowledge of all that had happened since he was pulled under.

"I am here my lord." She replied, dropping down from a tree nearby where she'd no doubt been keeping watch.

"Something has happened to Del, I can feel it, return home and guard her with your life. If you find her gone, search out the wizards, they will help you." He barked, moving back into the camp to amend his battle plans.

Tauriel nodded, despite the fact that he was no longer paying her any attention and set off quickly back down the path they'd come, her heart racing as her mind played through all the different scenarios that could have occurred since they'd departed.


	13. Darker Places

"Del, wake up baby girl." The voice should've been soothing to her, should've roused her from sleep with a smile, but all she felt was crushing despair.

"You've already used her three times." She growled, burrowing further under the moth eaten scrap of blanket as the shade of her mother faded into the darkness of the room around her, only to be replaced by the smug face of Sarumon.

"I must confess to having run out of new faces to torment you with. This could all be over in an instant if you would only tell me what I wish to know dear girl." He was careful to keep his voice light and conversational as he knelt beside her, brushing the dirty hair from her face. "A new bruise? The guard was instructed not to harm you. I will speak with him." He said, placing his hand fully against the ugly swelling around her right eye. She knew that this "healing" was how his power took root in her mind, but she'd grown too weak to push him away.

"You know that I won't break this way. I'll die before I give you knowledge of my world." She spat, trying in vain to jerk out of his grip as the soothing heat began to seep into her skin.

"I think you truly believe that. But others have felt equally resolute in the past, only to bow to my will in the end. You will be no different my child. All I ask is that you submit to me, allow me to end this nonsensical suffering." He withdrew his hand, remaining on his knees beside her. She drew in a breath, turning her head to glare into his lying eyes.

"Bring it on old man." She smirked, feeling the pressure of his power pressing her back into the filthy mattress.

"You will regret this insolence." He hissed, sweeping from the room, the door swinging closed behind him with a resounding thud. She allowed a few moments to ensure he'd really gone before she drew in a shaky breath and allowing the tears to fall. She had no way of knowing how long she'd been gone. His magic robbed her of her sense of time, making each torture session and phantom visit bleed into the next so that it felt as if only a day had passed.

"I should never have fallen asleep that night." She whispered, berating herself yet again for thinking she'd ever be safe in this tower. She had been so careful in her examination of the room, not even considering that sleep would be what sealed her into this spell formed hellscape. But, the moment she'd woken the following morning, she found the truth of the "room" that had been prepared for her.

It hadn't been the pleasant place she'd been shown, but was instead a cell with nothing but a bucket and straw filled mattress, and that had been where she remained. Her guard, the orc she thought had died, would visit her daily, asking her inane questions about Thranduil and the workings of her world, only to resort to physical torture when her stubborn refusal proved too much for his miniscule patience.

This had been her schedule, every day, for however long it had been since she'd been brought here. She knew the odds of Thranduil coming for her was slim to none, he'd not exactly been enthused about the idea of her to begin with and probably viewed her absence as a blessing, if he thought of her at all. She felt her heart constrict at the thought of him sitting in his rooms, content without her, after everything they'd been through, but it was the only explanation she had for why she was still here.

"Del. We must hurry. Get up." His voice floated to her from the doorway, just as it always did, and she steeled herself for everything she knew was to follow. Sure enough, at her lack of response, soft footsteps echoed around the tiny cell and she felt a warm hand descend onto her shoulder, holding it gently. "Please. We do not have time." He whispered, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"What color are my eyes?" She asked, refusing to look up at him.

"Your eyes? Del we must go now, we have no time for silly questions." He said, laughing softly. It made her heart ache to hear it, knowing the true sound of his laughter and longing to hear it just once more.

"Answer me and I'll go with you." She said, still refusing to move.

"Your eyes are blue." He said, pulling gently on her arm.

"Wrong." She hissed, swinging her arm back to connect with the phantom's jaw, sending the body sprawling and dispelling the image to reveal her guard, holding his jaw and glaring at her.

"Bad move." He growled, lumbering to his feet and squaring his shoulders. She just mirrored his posture, intent on making this fight lat as long as possible. The more tired he was by the time he pinned her, the less she would have to endure afterward.

"Not from where I'm standing, Ugly." She smirked, assuming the only fighting stance she'd found that worked for his usual bull rush. She'd no sooner planted her feet than he was speeding toward her. She stepped to the side, flippiing him over her knee and slamming him into the hard floor. Her reached up to grab her leg, but she danced out of his reach and took another solid stance across the room.

He rose with the strange kind of grace that seemed unique to Orcs and rushed her again, hooking her around the waist this time. She felt the wall behind her and jumped, bracing her legs against the heavy masonry and pushing forward with all the strength she could muster, effectively acting like a spring, pulling him off his feet and pressing his face forcefully into the wall.

He roared as blackish blood erupted fro his mouth and nose, splashing across the wall and robbing him of his grip for a moment. Del took this opportunity to shake him off and scramble to the other side of the room, readying herself for his next charge. But it never came. A bolt of pure energy shot down her spine, rooting her to the spot and stealing her breath.

The orc turned to face her, murder on his face as he drew a wicked looking knife from his belt. Del struggled to move, her vision starting to blacken around the edges as she slowly suffocated, her eyes darting around the room, trying to find the wizard she knew was responsible for this.

"Del. I find myself tiring of this game. I will have the knowledge you hold, or I will be done with you, but I am done waiting." His voice floated around her from all directions and she felt herself beginning to vibrate with panic and fury. The restriction on her oxygen supply was removed just as the knife sliced into her shoulder. Her scream bounced off the walls around her as the Orc took his time piercing her flesh.

"You will pay." He snarled, a smile creeping across his lopsided features.

It seemed to go on for hours. He would stab her and then treat the wound, ensuring he never hit anywhere that would fatally wound. After each attack, Sarumon would ask her to divulge even one fact of her world, just one, and the torture would end. It sounded so good to her in that moment that she found herself almost agreeing, if only to make the pain stop. But just as she was about to break, Thranduil's face would flash in her mind, disapproving and stern, and she would find her strength again.

"Fuck you all!" She screamed as the knife sunk into her stomach.

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Thranduil had never been more afraid in his many years. The battle was over, the dwarves had reclaimed the mountain and the dragon lay dead at the bottom of the long lake, but still no Del. Tauriel had searched the reaches of the forest, going so far as to examine the skeletal remains of Dol Guldur, but could find no trace of the woman.

From what they could gather, a single orc had come for her and taken her away, but the trail seemed to simply vanish at the edge of the forest, disappearing into nothing, and leaving just as much to go on. He'd reached out to Gandalf and Radagast both, hoping against hope that they'd returned to themselves just as he had, but had heard no news from either wizard.

"My lord. I believe I know where she's gone." Tauriel said, approachiing his throne with haste.

"Tell me." He all but shouted, hope sparking in his mind for the first time in months.

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She didn't even have the energy to whimper as she was dropped roughly to the floor, the orc stepping away from her, sheathing his knife at his belt and snarling at her weakness.

"Del. Can you hear me?" Saruman's voice echoed around her.

"Fuck you old man." She growled, spitting blood from her mouth.

"I am finished with you. Do you understand me? You are of no use to me. I will not come to you again. Your guard will not come to you again. You will be left alone." His voice had a ring of sincere pity to it that should have caused fear to blossom in her chest, but she was too exhausted to care.

"Aww, no more visits? But I was having so much fun." She snarled, pulling herself onto the mattress, hissing as her wounds screamed in protest.

"You should have cooperated." His voice was barely above a whisper as it faded away, lining up perfectly with the slamming of her cell door.


	14. Lost and Found

Her voice echoed softly off the walls of the chamber. It sounded mad even to her own ears, bouncing off the cold stone in tremulous chords that fought rather than blending as they should have. She'd long forgotten the song, the tune becoming bent and twisted as the days lengthened. It had begun beautiful, that much she knew, a long lost memory of her own world's music that had once brought her joy. But now, it had turned sour and discordant, much like her mind.

She sighed, rising from the messy pile of fabric and straw that had once been her mattress and slowly swayed on her feet. The rhythm of the song had remained true, a simply four count of beats that echoed her heart as it throbbed slowly in her chest. She longed for it to simply stop, for her body to follow her psyche into disordered malfunction until it all came to an end. But it remained steady in its beating, keeping her rooted firmly in the conscious world, trapped in the hell she'd made for herself.

"Would it have done so much harm?" She asked, her voice falling quiet against the deafening silence. "Would it have been so wrong to tell him?" She turned her head around the room, searching for any sign of life to answer her questions. But, just like every time before, the room was empty, devoid of all but herself and the cold stone.

She felt her breath pick up as the isolation attacked her yet again. She felt her body backing into a corner, feeling the empty air pressing in on her from every side. She watched the room, feeling the menace of the silence, her mind slowly being crushed by the utter lack of anything but the four walls.

She felt the scream building in her chest but fought it down, afraid to make a single sound lest she disturb the stillness around her and cause it anger. Her body pressed back into one of the corners of the room, her knees slowly giving way as she sank down to the floor, her hands coming to cover her ears, trying in vain to drown out the thunderous drumming of her own heart. Her breath came in gasps as the scream finally won out over her frail grip of control and her eyes slammed shut as it echoed off the walls around her, bringing with it the fury that had been her constant companion.

"Fuck you old man! You won't beat me! Do you hear me you bastard?! I will not lose to this place and you will never win! I know all your secrets! I know what you do in the dark! YOU WILL NEVER WIN!" She shrieked, shredding her voice even further as she railed against an enemy that had long since lost interest in her.

As the last word left her lips, she felt her world tilt and fall away, her consciousness following shortly after.

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Thranduil paced through the camp, his soldiers scattering as he passed by. It had been a hard few months for them all, filled with barked orders and an utter lack of patience from their king. He'd lost something precious to him and the pain of it was slowly driving him to madness.

"My lord." Tauriel raced up the line of tents, her face drawn in a grave line of fear and pain.

"Tauriel, what news?" Thranduil turned so quickly, the elleth found herself nearly running into him.

"They've come." She turned, hurrying back the way she'd come, followed closely by the dark figure of her king.

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She sat against the wall, her body rocking softly against the cold stone. It was a habit she'd developed as a baby, something her mother used to do when she was too young to sit up on her own that had carried over. It was soothing for her. She moved her body to the rhythm of a song that only she could hear and found herself humming softly to the tune, filling the void of silence around her with the soothing notes.

She felt her throat aching and stinging as she made the sounds, knowing that soon, her voice would be entirely gone, but she found that she didn't care. At that moment, she needed to be reminded that things existed outside of this place, that she had a life once, filled with love and security and things that made sense. She'd been her own person, not this object that got bounced from one megalomaniac to another in a vain grab for power that, ultimately, was meaningless.

"Eru created the world in song with his many ainur, the valar, greatest and mightiest of all, descended into the void and shaped the world, bringing the vision of their song to life. They created the mountains and the trees, every animal that walks or crawls, and it was beautiful to them. But they were not alone. Melkor, the twisted one, came with them, tearing their mountains down and raising their oceans to deserts. Yet, here it all is. Melkor, then called Morgoth by the Eldar, was thrown into the void, locked away for all time. His servant and apprentice, Sauron, took upon him the mantle of dark lord and began his own evil works. He bound the powers of the Earth into the great rings, tying them to himself with one other, the One Ring that would rule them all. But, he too was over thrown and the ring was lost." She looked toward the ceiling, feeling a presence intrude on her solitude. "But what if it wasn't?" She asked, seemingly to herself. 

He was listening, she knew, waiting for her to tell the rest of the story so that he might find the ring and take it for his own. She had to play this carefully, if he knew she knew he was there, he would extend her solitude out of sheer spit, but if she could get him to listen, to really listen, then she would have him.  
"What if someone found it?" She sighed, turning her head toward the far wall, feeling the presence move through her space. 

"They did, you know, find it I mean." She laughed, closing her eyes as the presence drew closer. "A pair of tiny creatures that didn't know what they'd discovered. But then it was hidden away again, taken by a weak mind that wanted nothing more than to possess it, and keep possessing it for as long as he lived." She drew a soft breath as the sound of fabric whispering over stone reached her ears. "But it's out now, out in the big wide world, waiting, as it does, for its moment. Waiting for someone strong enough to wield it, to find it, to put it to use once more." She closed her eyes, bowing her head against her chest as the presence drew so close that it seemed to be right on top of her. She let a smile cross her face as she stretched, burying her hand into the straw of her mattress.

Then, faster than blinking, she'd drawn the sharpened stone shard from the straw and struck, slashing as she moved forward, the slicing edge finding its target. The presence was revealed as Saurman pulled back with a shout of pain, his staff tumbling from his now bleeding hand, directly into Del's waiting hand.

"Gotcha now, old man." She grinned, taking a firm hold of the staff and going immediately on the attack, bringing the hard wood end of the staff into every sensitive point of his body she could find, bearing him quickly to his knees. She knew she should stop, there was no way she could actually kill him, not with as weak as she was now, and every hit was a promise of retribution that would only make her situation worse. But as she pummeled him, as she saw him fall to the floor and cower away from her attack, she was filled with a kind of righteous anger that pushed her to hit him harder, bringing the staff against his skull again and again until he stopped moving entirely.

As he fell unconscious, she felt her mind return to her, pulling her back from the attack. He was down and the door was open. She had a way out. But she couldn't bring herself to move. As she stood over her beaten foe, the story she so loved flashed through her mind. If she were to leave now, would it disrupt the world as she knew it? Would it cause changes to the story? But, as the sound of footsteps began to echo down the hall, she decided that she would have to take that risk.

She drew a breath, tossing the staff aside and clutching her own crude weapon as she turned and sprinted out into the corridor. It had been so long since she'd had to move like this that she was slowed by her own lack of muscle, but as her legs began to scream in protest, she heard the sound of shouting and steel ringing against stone, and knew that to stop meant certain death. So, with a soft groan of effort, she redoubled her efforts and was rewarded with the opening into the grand foyer. It sent a shock through her system, being in such an open space after who knew how long in such a cramped room, but she fought through the pain as she saw the large double doors in front of her beginning to close.

"No!" She shouted, sprinting forward as the doors dragged slowly across the stone floor. She didn't see what was pushing them, didn't know why it was taking them so long to close, all she knew is that she had to beat them to the punch or she was dead, so, with another shout, she leaned down into each step and managed to push through just as they closed, her wraith like frame scraping against the sharp edges of each door as she passed through, earning herself several cuts and bruises along side her freedom.

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Thranduil stormed into his command tent, his eyes scanning the people seated around the small table. There was Elrond Half Elven, Gandalf the Grey, Radaghast the Brown, and Galadriel, one of the oldest of the Eldar and blood of the line of Faenor. His father's kin were once close with those that passed over to Valinor, but as the centuries lengthened, that tie had been broken, left to lie in shattered pieces across the length of Arda.

"Thranduil." She said, her tone carrying far more weight and judgement that one simple word should have been able to convey.

"My lady Galadriel." He bowed, the words rolling from his tongue with ease, despite his anxiety and anger.

"Do we really have time for extended greetings?" Gandalf barked, his face a storm of anger and worry.

"The old ways do seem a bit lengthy for our present situation." Elrond said, his voice serving to cool the frayed nerves of both wizards and the forest king whose fear was threatening to consume him.

"We've been informed of your misfortune. I know your fear, to have lost love and discovered it anew is a beautiful thing. You fear to lose it again." Galadriel's voice cut through every barrier he'd erected around his thoughts as if he were no more than a child.

"I will not lose her." He growled, his hand gripping hard around the hilt of his sword. "I will pull her from that beast alone if I must, but I will not lose her." He looked up to scan the faces of the powers gathered before him. Each bore an expression of concern.

"You have the might of Loth-Lorien, love is too precious a thing to waste." Galadriel bowed her head, gliding gracefully from the tent, only to be replaced by a fair haired elven warrior.

"I am Haldir my lord, we are at your command." He bowed, taking a seat at the table.

"We are few in number these days, but the force of my people is behind you." Elrond said, his face pulling into a grimace of pain as thoughts of his own wife, driven mad in a dungeon by the enemy, flashed through his mind. "We share a pain, you and I, a pain I would not visit upon you again if I can prevent it." He bowed his head quickly and a spritely looking warrior seemed to simply appear beside him.

"Elrohir, you are welcome, take a seat." Thranduil gestured to the last empty seat at the table.

"My cousin and I are still very unsure of this action. We are too few, we wizards, to go around beheading us when we do not behave." Radaghast spoke softly, feeling Gandalf bristle beside him.

"Do not behave? He had upset the balance of this world. He has broken the covenant of Eru, polluted the very purpose we wizards were put here to achieve. If you are unsure cousin, remember how you were mere months ago." Gandalf growled, his shadow beginning to lengthen as he felt his temper rise.

"Please, Gandalf, allow me to finish. I do not mean to say that we do nothing. The girl is innocent in this mess, she cannot be allowed to remain with him, that much is certain. But what we do with him once we have her, that is what I wish to settle. We are only three when we should be five and to lessen that number would invite disaster." He caught Gandalf's eye and saw the fire begin to die as sense took hold once more.

"Quite right cousin, quite right. We will assist in this action, but only if we have your word that Saruman will remain alive, to be remanded into our custody for punishment." Gandalf's eyes turned to Thranduil, watching the emotions play across his face.

"Do I have your word that he will be suitably...reprimanded?" The elf asked, his mouth turning up in a sneer, making sure his meaning was perfectly clear.

"We will see to him." Gandalf snarled, anger burning in his eyes.

"Very well, he will be left to you." Thranduil nodded, unrolling a map of Fangorn's borders and the bowl valley that housed Saruman's Tower. "We must come upon them suddenly, through the forest, a direct assault would guarantee defeat." He drew the border out with his finger as his mind turned over the options available to them.

"The old forest will prove challenging." Elrohir sounded almost excited, his young blood singing with the idea of battle and challenge after his relatively calm upbringing. He was reminded of the battle planning he was privvy to with the men of the north.

"Focus son, this is not like the raids I allow you on in the east. This battle could well be your end if you are not sincere." Elrond admonished his child, earning a nod and a serious expression from the young elf.

"The forest will not trouble us. I will make sure of that." Radaghast grinned, his power humming softly under his skin as he thought of the things that resided in that ancient wood. He was a friend to most, and those that eschewed his friendship, knew his power none the less and had come to fear it.

"Then we have a plan. Rest well this night, for tomorrow, we fight." Thranduil whispered, letting the map spring back into the roll that was its learned shape.

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Del felt the breath leave her body as she stopped outside the doors, the scene before her throwing her completely off balance. How had she not heard it? How had she not known? She felt more anger boil up in her as she realized that Saruman had no only locked her in, but also warded her room from any and all sound. He'd kept her in a deprivation chamber that had her convinced she was alone. But as she looked out over the battle raging across the once peaceful lawn, she knew that she was far from alone.

She caught a glimpse of familiar icy blonde hair flashing through the crowd and felt her heart soar up into her throat, her legs moving forward in wobbling steps. He was here. He was really here. He'd come for her. She felt tears beginning to fall softly down her sunken cheeks and couldn't repress the ragged sobs that wracked her thin shoulders as more and more familiar faces surfaced in the thinning crowd of orcs.

She had no thought in her mind other than making it to his side as she began to wade through the stinking pile of fallen monsters, nearing the frenzied battle as it dwindled down to just a few remaining foes. But just as the last orc its end at the hands of a very angry Tauriel, she felt herself still. She knew the feeling and felt a shriek of fury rip its way from her mouth, drawing the attention of all the gathered warriors.

"A valiant effort my dear child, but I find myself with a renewed interest." His voice boomed around her as she felt herself being pulled back toward the tower. His hand closed around the back of her neck, cold and hard as iron, shackling her in place. "Look at them all, so many faces, so many good souls, all here for you. What would they think, I wonder, if you were to turn from them and return to the tower with me?" He asked, his voice a soft hiss in her ear.

"NO! I'll never go back!" She began to thrash, feeling his power over her weaken until it left her entirely. With a rush of adrenaline and sheer will power, she ripped herself from his grip and stumbled down the steps toward the shocked face of the elf she'd spent her entire captivity wishing for. His face opened into the brightest smile she'd ever seen as the distance between them closed, only to fall again as he shot forward, shouting something she couldn't understand. At first she thought he was rushing to meet her, like in the old movies, but as the sharp bite of steel in her back drove the breath from her lungs, she knew that life had simply decided to play with her one last time.

"Del!" Radaghast shouted, his voice all but drowned out by Gandalf as he began to cast in earnest. Saruman was thrown back and pinned in place, his face going blank as Gandalf's magic took hold and robbed him of his mind for a short time.

Del felt her body beginning to fall, willing her feet to continue forward until she felt the soft warmth of his hands on her bare arms. She crumpled into his arms, that one touch robbing her of all will to move. He'd found her. He'd saved her from that place. She was free.

She gasped as the pain raced through her body, her breath coming in short gasps as her lung began to fill with blood. She wanted to speak, wanted to say all the things she'd thought about as she waited for him to arrive. She wanted to tell him about her family and the dreams she'd had of their future, but as she drew breath to speak, her chest constricted, causing her to curl into herself and hack up blood onto the ratty sack she'd been forced to wear.

"No. No no NO!" He shouted, holding her tight against his blood stained breast plate. "You can't go, I've just found you." He looked down at her, tears gathering in his crystaline blue eyes. She reached up on skeletal hand, brushing aside a tear as it attempted to fall, a serene smile on her face.

"I'm not...not going...anywhere..." She gasped in a breath, coughing more blood as both wizards pulled her from his grasp and rushed her away.

He knew he should go after her, should do all he could to ensure her survival, but as the wizards departed, memories of his wife flooded his mind. There she lay, wounded and bleeding, smiling just as Del had done, promising him she would see him once more in the Halls of Mandos. She'd died then, a smile still on her face as her soul left her body behind, making the long journey to Valinor where she would wait for the time after time when the world was made new.

He felt a scream of rage echo around him as he moved forward, his feet carrying him against his will to the fallen wizard. He heard a shout behind him and his rational mind reeled back from what he was about to do, but nothing would stop him from having his revenge. He didn't return to himself until he heard the ring of metal on stone. As his eyes cleared, he looked down to see his sword resting against the ground, and an old gnarled staff.

"Are you with us Thranduil?" Gandalf's soft timbre broke through the fog of rage and pain in his mind and brought him back to himself.

"I am." He said, his breath shuddering across his lips as he stepped back, sheathing his sword and turning from the prone villain that had robbed him of his love.

"She is at the edge of the field." Gandalf whispered, his voice drawn with pain and sorrow. "We did all we could." He turned from the elf as he set to dealing with Saruman in the only way he could, trapping the wizard in his own mind.

Thranduil drew a shaky breath, setting off down the path toward the heart ache he knew was waiting for him.

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Galadriel slid soundlessly from the tree line, following the call of her instincts to a frail looking human that lay mere yards from her. She could feel the girl's suffering, could see the pain she'd been forced to endure for the sake of this world that was not her own, and felt her heart constrict. She would not end here. She would continue on and help to thaw the heart of her distant kin. There were precious few gifts left to her now that her power was bound with that odious creature's creation, but she would use one left to her to save this woman, if she could.

She knelt beside the mortal, trapping her wandering eyes in an endless stare that showed far more than any human of this world could comprehend, only to have a smile spread across her face. The human reached up a hand and rested it on her face, smile still in place as she drew a labored breath.

"I know. It'll all be over sooner than you think. You'll be reunited with your ancient kin, and see your home again." She sighed. "I wish...I could see it...Valinor..." Her eyes began to slip closed as Galadriel sat in shocked silence. How had she known? She saw this mortal's mind, and within it was the entire history of this world. She drew a shaking breath as she set her hands upon the woman's chest, using the meager power left to her to encourage healing. She willed the body to repair itself, fueling it with her own power and praying to Eru that she had come in time.

"My lady?" Haldir's voice drew her away from the woman. She'd done all she could, it was up to the mortal now. "Will she live?" He asked, coming up along side her.

"Only she may decide that." Galadriel said, her voice carrying to the distraught Tauriel and Thranduil as they reached Del's resting place.

"What have you done?" He asked, forgoing the formality in his panic.

"I have given her the power to live, but I cannot will the soul to remain." She locked eyes with him, the gravity of her words hitting him like a brick. He nodded, kneeling down beside the sweet human he'd come to love.

"Del, can you hear me?" He asked, lifting one thin hand, placing a soft kiss to the dirty flesh. "I'm here. I came for you." He felt the tears coming as the guilt and shame closed over him. "I'm sorry I was not here sooner. I'm sorry that I allowed my anger to cloud my mind from the gift you were trying to give me. I'm sorry I chose an old grudge over your safety. Please, don't leave me. Please come back." He felt the tears fall from his cheeks to splash softly against her hollow cheek, creating tracks of porcelain skin through the months worth of grime and dirt. "I need you, silly human. You have my heart." He leaned down, placing a soft kiss against her chapped lips, willing her eyes to open.

Her chest rose and fell in a tremulous pattern, he could hear her heart beating erratically in her chest, going first fast, then dangerously slow before falling into a steady rhythm. He gasped, sitting back to look at her face as her eyes began to crack open. Her mouth opened and drew in a deep breath, free of any obstruction or blood, and she struggled to speak, her throat parched and abused from months of screaming.

"Water! Bring water now!" Thranduil barked, only to have a flask pressed into his hand. He looked up to see Galadriel, smiling with tears glistening in her eyes.

"Miruvor?" He asked, catching the distinctly sweet smell of the water. The elven lady merely nodded, drawing a calming breath.

Thranduil nodded, lifting Del's head to tip the flask toward her mouth. She sighed as the cool liquid slid down her throat, soothing her hurt. She pushed the flask away after a few mouthfuls, know that she would be sick if she had too much after having so little for so long. Her eyes felt so heavy, her body exhausted from all it had been through, but she fought to open them, fought to see him again before the darkness took her.

"Thank you." She cringed internally at how rough her voice sounded. She'd probably done irreparable damage to it with all her screaming and dehydration, but she hoped it wouldn't always sound as rough as it did now.

"Of course." He sighed, relief flooding him.

"So tired." She said, her eyes sliding shut again, her mind filled with his smile.

"Rest. I have you." He held her close as her body relaxed against him, his whole body stilled for the sound of her continued breath and heart beat. As both held strong he allowed himself to relax, quiet sobs wracked his body as he held her close. He'd almost lost her. If not for Galadriel's power, she would be gone beyond Valinor to a place he could not follow even in death.

A hand came to rest softly on his shoulder and he knew, without having to look, that it was Elrond, coming to offer his quiet strength as Thranduil finally gave an outlet to all the fear and pain he'd felt for so long.

It took longer than he expected to vent it all, but at the end, as his breath calmed and the tears began to dry, he heard the grass behind him rustle, and felt the robes of his old friend brush his armor. He allowed the elves of Rivendell to take Del to a tent that had been hurriedly erected, and felt himself sag with exhaustion.

"She will live. Galadriel has seen it." Elrond's voice sounded both sad and pleased at the same time.

"I almost lost her." His voice sounded too harsh to his ears, rough and raw from the sobbing he'd been doing.

"But you didn't." Elrond looked over at him, a sad smile on his face. "You will, in time, but for the moment, she is safe, and she is yours." He sighed, lifting a flower that had been knocked from its vine during the battle. "Humans are finite creatures Thranduil. They are like a flower that has been cut from the stem, beautiful, full of life and light, but unable to continue forever. My grandmother suffered the fate you have taken upon yourself, and in the end, she could not bear the loss. She followed him away from this realm. It is a beautiful thing, to love a mortal, but you mustn't squander a single day. It goes far too quickly." He laid the flower on Thranduil's armored leg and rose gracefully, walking to the healing tent to tend to the girl.

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Her whole body was sore, filled with the kind of bone deep ache that no amount of pain killer was gonna get rid of. But she couldn't stop the smile that stretched her face. If she was in pain, it meant she was alive.

Her eyes were like two ton weights on her face, but she pushed them open, needing to verify what her body was telling her. She could feel the soft feather mattress under her back, feel the breeze as it passed over her face, smell the fresh scents of the forest as the sound of rustling leaves reached her ears. It all sand a beautiful song of freedom the she was afraid to trust until she saw it with her own eyes.

As they opened, she saw the familiar carved walls of the healing room, saw the beams of fresh morning sunlight glinting off the stone that had been so carefully shaped to look like roots and felt the happiness swell in her chest. She was really free. She was really out of that place.

"Good morning, are you feeling better?" A deep baritone asked off to one side, making her smile even wider.

"I'm really free aren't I?" She asked, afraid that any moment would bring the dispelling of this beautiful illusion.

"Yes Del, you are free." Thranduil leaned over into her field of vision and smiled. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come for you." He said, sadness touching at the edges of his expression.

"I knew you would. Some part of me knew you would." She felt tears well up in her eyes as the months of horror set into her mind. "It was so horrible there, but I fought. Every time I got close to breaking I would see you face, and I knew I couldn't give in. It was so quiet, for so long, but I heard your voice and I knew I had to hang on." She looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to chastise her for being so sentimental, but it never came. His arms encircled her and brought her too thin frame to rest against his broad chest and he simply held her as all the pain and fear came rushing out of her. It hurt to cry, her body was still feeling quite abused, but she couldn't stem the flow of sobs and tears as her mind cleansed itself of the torture she'd been made to endure.

It felt like hours that she sobbed into the soft fabric of his tunic, staining it with all the hurt she'd been holding in, but, at long last, she felt herself beginning to calm. The shadow of what she'd been through would always be with her, this much she knew, it was simply the way human minds worked, but the threat was gone. She'd robbed it of its power over her. Never again would she have to be in that dark place all alone, because he would be there to hold her.

"Del. I know you've just been through a terrible ordeal, but I must ask you something." He released her, settling her back onto the bed as he reached to a small table behind him, pulling back a ring that was unlike anything she'd ever seen. It was made of winding tendrils of silver, all coming together to support an aqua blue stone that shone with a brilliance she'd never seen before. It was flanked on all sides by smaller darker sapphires that seemed to glimmer with their own inner fire as they spilled down over the vines of silver, creating an ocean like wave that drew the eye back to the center stone. "Will you become my one? My queen and my eternal mate?" He asked, looking deep into her eyes as the full extent of that question settled on her.

"But, I'm human. I mean, won't that leave you..." Her words were stopped by a fiery kiss. It sent shivers of heat all through her body, warming her in a way that she'd thought long gone and robbing her mind of all argument. She wanted to be with him, with all her heart, life span be damned.

"Let me worry about that, silly human." He laughed softly, slipping the ring onto her finger and enveloping her in another toe curling kiss.


End file.
